Thomas and Friends - TV Series Adaptations
by DDandT6
Summary: This is where my adaptations of Thomas episodes will go. The goal of these is NOT to try and "outdo" or "be better" than the actual team, but more so just for fun. Enjoy! TODAY: Alfie is nervous at the news of a new addition to "The Pack" and becomes even more terrified when the new member has a giant spinning drill in "Danger-Prone Darcy!"
1. Confusion Without Delay

**CONFUSION WITHOUT DELAY**

* * *

One day, Thomas pulled into Knapford station to exchange passengers with the express.

"I'm here, Gordon, I'm-" He broke off, noticing that the platform Gordon usually was at was empty.

"That's strange," Thomas muttered, "Gordon's usually here before me." Just after Thomas said this, Gordon's whistle blew and the big engine pulled into the station, trying not to be noticed.

"Well, well, well. I beat you here today!" Thomas grinned. Gordon glared.

"Don't you start, Thomas. It wasn't my fault. There were so many passengers at Barrow that they couldn't fit into my coaches, and I was delayed as that silly shunter brought me more." Thomas smirked.

"Oh, is that it? Too many passengers for you? You must be getting old then, Gordon. Why not let another engine pull the express?"

"Rubbish!" hissed Gordon, "I can handle the express just fine on my own!" The guard's whistle blew and Gordon rumbled out of the station, grumbling to himself. Thomas chuckled and set off back down his branch line. Neither of them noticed the Fat Controller standing on the platform.

"Hmm…" He swung his office door open and walked inside, thinking of an idea.

* * *

A few days later, the Fat Controller had called a meeting at the Shunting Yard. The engines who could come waited for him to arrive. Minutes passed, and Gordon was getting impatient.

"Where is he? I can't just sit here in the yard all day!"

"Why not?" Thomas asked innocently, "Give yourself a rest to ease your aging wheels, and Henry can take over as express engine!"

"I wouldn't mind that," put in Henry brightly.

"Shut up!" Gordon fumed, "I'm _not_ old, and I'm _not_ giving up my express!" As the engines were talking, Emily noticed Winston rolling into the yard, jerking about as usual.

"Everyone, be quiet!" she gasped, "The Fat Controller's coming!"

"Finally," Gordon huffed. The engines quieted down as the Fat Controller waved at them.

"Ah, good evening, everyone!" he called, "I have an important announcement to make!"

"Another one," muttered Gordon, unimpressed, as Winston barely screeched to a stop just in front of him. The Fat Controller stood up and cleared his throat.

"Gordon, I see that you've been having some trouble with the express as of late." Gordon gaped.

"W-What?! That's not true, sir! There's just so many passengers, but I swear I can make up the time-"

"Now, now, Gordon, I'm not blaming you, but it is becoming an issue. You've been delayed every day for the past week, and it's apparent that you need help."

"_Me_, sir?!"

"Yes, you. Tomorrow, a new engine will be arriving to pull a secondary express service to help ease the load of your passengers. I expect you all to make her feel welcome." Unbeknownst to the Fat Controller, a large, yellow tender engine was puffing up behind Winston, looking very anxious.

"I'm slowing down, I'm slowing down!" Her brakes came on with a groan. The engines looked on in surprise as she bumped into the back of Winston, causing the Fat Controller to nearly fall over.

"Ouch! Mind the fenders, if you please," Winston grumbled, "I just had them mended. …again."

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry, little car-"

"Winston."

"-Winston. I miscalculated how long it would take to stop by, uh… quite a lot." The Fat Controller straightened his top hat.

"I'll say! You nearly bumped me off the rails! What are you doing here already? I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow." The new engine smiled nervously.

"I, um… wanted to get here early, sir. Wouldn't want to be late, would I?" The Fat Controller raised an eyebrow.

"I see." He turned to the other engines.

"Well, since you're here now, may as well introduce you. Everyone, this is Rebecca!" A chorus of greetings came from the crowd, with Gordon noticeably silent. He narrowed his eyes at Rebecca, making her feel uneasy.

"H-Hi everyone!" she smiled shyly.

"You will start tomorrow morning," the Fat Controller told her, "Get a good night's rest, Rebecca, and welcome to the railway." He was about to pull Winston's lever when Winston interrupted.

"Um… I'm boxed in, sir." Rebecca blushed.

"Oops, sorry!" She quickly reversed to the points, allowing Winston to get out. With the Fat Controller out of sight, Gordon started rolling out of the yard, glaring at Rebecca.

"I can't believe _this_ is what I was brought aside for…" Rebecca couldn't help but feel guilty.

"Oh, have I done something wrong?"

"Don't worry about Gordon, Rebecca," reassured Henry, "He's just a bit upset right now, he'll get over it. Say, do you have somewhere to sleep for the night?"

"I, er… don't think so?"

"In that case, come stay with us at Tidmouth Sheds tonight! Percy's pulling the mail train, so there'll be a berth open for you." Rebecca gasped in excitement.

"R-Really? Thank you!"

"Come on, I'll show you the way." Henry started reversing, and Rebecca eagerly followed. The remaining engines glanced at each other in bemusement.

* * *

On his evening express, Gordon had been delayed again by all of the passengers and didn't come back to the shed until nighttime. He rolled onto the turntable and yawned. As Gordon got turned, his eyes shot open as he spotted Rebecca.

"You! What are you doing here?" Gordon barked. Rebecca grimaced.

"She's sleeping here, of course. Why do you ask?" Henry cut in.

"Because it's not dignified!" Gordon complained as he backed into his berth, "First, I have to share my express with another engine, now that same engine is sleeping in the same shed for the night!"

"It doesn't have to just be for the night." Henry winked at Rebecca, though she didn't understand and just became confused.

"Perhaps she could stay here forever! Wouldn't that be nice?"

"W-WHAT?!" Gordon spluttered in horror, "S-She can't do that! Other engines have to sleep in that berth!"

"Oh?" Henry smirked, "Like who?"

"Like, um… Percy!"

"There's always Ffarquhar."

"Duck!"

"He sleeps at Arlesburgh."

"Donald and Douglas…?"

"Also sleep at Arlesburgh." Rebecca watched the two go back and forth with interest.

"Alright," Gordon said desperately, "so none of those engines stay here permanently, but… you do!"

"That could change," Henry grinned.

"You… leave? You'd never dare!"

"I could!" Gordon, now visibly nervous, harrumphed and reversed all the way into the shed. The shed doors slammed shut with a bang. Rebecca winced.

"You're not serious about leaving, are you, Henry? I don't want you to leave just so I can stay here…"

"Of course not! Teasing Gordon is just good fun."

"_I heard that!_" came Gordon's voice from inside the shed. Henry chuckled and closed his eyes.

"Does this sort of thing happen all the time?" Rebecca whispered to Emily. Emily sighed.

* * *

Early the next morning, Rebecca was peacefully sleeping when a loud whistle woke her up with a start.

"Deary me, have I overslept?" She then saw a still-grumpy Gordon roll towards the turntable, only to be cut off by James puffing out of the shed. Gordon gritted his teeth.

"Don't worry, Rebecca. Everyone's just up early today," Henry explained.

"Oh! Does that mean my express is due soon?"

"Gordon should be the one telling you this, but since he's being a crosspatch, I may as well tell you. I've pulled the express before, so I'm just as much of an expert as he is."

"No, you're not!" Gordon retorted as he rolled forward again, "_I_ am the fastest engine on the whole railway- Hey!"

"Excuse me, Gordon! Wait your turn!" Emily laughed as she puffed away. Gordon groaned.

"Anyway," Henry continued, "you should leave a couple of hours after Gordon does. You stop at one station from Knapford: Crovan's Gate. Then, your terminus is at Vicarstown, where you turn around and come back."

"How do you remember all that?"

"You'll get used to it, it really isn't so hard. Just be glad you aren't pulling a local like Emily - those stop at every station."

"Wow! Emily has her own train? Everyone here does such important work!"

"You could say that," Edward chuckled, "They've been on all sorts of adventures. Why, Gordon, James, Emily, Thomas, and Henry even went to the Great Railway Show." Rebecca gasped in amazement.

"_You_, Henry?" Henry blushed.

"Oh, erm… Yes, I did. I competed in the strength competition, but I didn't actually… win, so-"

"Amazing! You all are incredible!" Rebecca whistled and rolled forward onto the turntable, cutting off Gordon once again. Gordon's eye twitched as Rebecca hurried away. Henry and Edward chuckled.

* * *

"Everyone's already proven themselves so much," Rebecca thought aloud as she pulled into the yard, "and I've… only just arrived. I better work extra hard in order to fit in here."

"Who are you talking to?" Rebecca jumped as a small green-and-yellow boxcab rolled up alongside.

"Um, nobody," she chuckled awkwardly.

"Oh. Well, now you can talk to me! I'm Philip!"

"My name's Rebecca! It's nice to meet you! Say, do you know where my express coaches are?" Philip thought for a moment.

"Express coaches…? I just shunted Gordon's. You just missed him! What do you want express coaches for?"

"I'm the new express engine," Rebecca smiled, "I'm supposed to have my own coaches."

"Ooh! That explains that shipment of new coaches that came the other day! Don't worry, I'm on it, Rebecca!" Philip honked his horn and scurried away. Rebecca grinned as she puffed to the station.

* * *

It wasn't long before Rebecca collected her coaches and set off down the main line. She was determined to be as fast as she possibly could be. She roared past some workmen who were on their break, nearly making them fall over. The foreman checked his watch in bewilderment. When she got to Crovan's Gate, there wasn't a narrow gauge engine there.

"Hmm, there aren't any passengers on the platform. I'll just keep going then! Must keep to time, after all!" she decided. Just as she disappeared from sight, Peter Sam puffed into the station with his coaches, only to find no connection waiting for him.

"What? The Thin Controller told me there was a new guaranteed connection!" Peter Sam spluttered before pausing.

"Didn't he?"

* * *

Rebecca was so fast, in fact, that she made it to Vicarstown extremely early. However, she wasn't supposed to be there yet.

"All aboard, everyone!" Rebecca called to the waiting passengers on the platform. The passengers seemed to be disappointed as they boarded the train. Rebecca gasped.

"Oh no, was I late? I must've been late! Why else would they be upset? Dear oh dear, I need to be even faster now!" Rebecca's worries were interrupted by a whistle she hadn't heard before. She looked ahead to see a series of red coaches backing towards her, at the front a big, green engine that looked similar to Gordon.

"Who's that?" Flying Scotsman queried suspiciously, "Excuse me, do you mind?"

"Oopsy! I'll be out of your way in just a moment!" Rebecca said apologetically as she reversed.

"What are you doing at _my_ platform? For that matter, where did all of my passengers go?" At the sound of their actual engine's voices, passengers began swarming out of the coaches and onto Flying Scotsman's train. Immediately, Rebecca realized what had happened.

"Oh no, I think I picked up your passengers by mistake! I'm sorry!"

"What? Who in the blazes are you?"

"Rebecca?" Flying Scotsman and Rebecca glanced over to see Gordon pulling in on the platform next to them.

"How did you get here before me? I didn't even see you pass me!"

"I must've been going so fast that you didn't see me, and I didn't see you! Oh, that must be impressive, right?" Flying Scotsman raised an eyebrow at Gordon.

"Oh, I thought_ you_ were behind me."

"You thought what? Do I look like an amateur to you?"

"Hmm…" Flying Scotsman smirked, "Compared to me, I'd say yes, little brother." Gordon gnashed his teeth.

"Why can't you call me Gordon?"

"Because I'm your _big_ brother, which makes you my _little_ brother… little brother."

"You think you're so amazing, don't you?"

"Well, my fans certainly do," Flying Scotsman chuckled as the passengers inside his coaches cheered for him. Not wanting to intervene, Rebecca quietly reversed away.

* * *

Soon, Flying Scotsman and Gordon had left the station while Rebecca stayed behind to pick up her passengers.

"Whoopsy, off I go again! I wouldn't want to be late on my first day!" With that, she hurried away, not noticing a bemused Rosie watching her leave. At Crovan's Gate, Peter Sam was most indignant as he waited with another connection.

"Doesn't even wait for me! Huh! At least Gordon bothers to stick around if I'm late, but I wasn't even late!"

"Give it a rest, Peter Sam, ye've said this nonstop," grumbled Duncan, who was having a rest in the nearby shed. Just then, Rebecca pulled in, much faster than Peter Sam had expected. She screeched to a halt at the platform and started talking to herself.

"All the other engines are so fast and strong… and even compete in competitions! I hope I won't be known as a nobody… Am I a nobody? No, no, I won't be, as long as I'm on time." Peter Sam and Duncan shared a look as Rebecca glanced at the clock.

"Hmm, I know! I'll leave straight away, so I won't be late!" Peter Sam gasped as Rebecca departed too soon.

"Whoa!" cried a man who was about to get off and gripped the door, "Stop, stop!" People from Peter Sam's train ran across the bridge, shouting. One elderly man waved his cane around, accidentally knocking the stationmaster on the head. But it was no use - Rebecca had gone.

"…what just happened?" Peter Sam asked.

* * *

Rebecca made her way back to Knapford, eager to check the station clock. But before she could, she had to cross the junction and gasped as a moving train was in her way. She slipped on the rails but managed to brake in time.

"Watch where ye're going, ye clumsy engine!" scolded Donald.

"Oops, sorry!" Rebecca called, but Donald just snorted and continued on his way. Rebecca then heard a bell and saw she was blocking Toby's track.

"Excuse me," Toby said as politely as he could, despite clearly being annoyed.

"Oops, sorry!" Rebecca cried again and she tried to reverse so he could pass. Toby sighed and rolled forward to the station. Henrietta gave Rebecca a sympathetic look.

"Oh, my name's Rebecca, by the way- oof!" She looked back and saw a small, black shunter with a small train had bumped her from behind.

"Oi, get moving! There isn't supposed to be a train here, Rebecca-by-the-way," the shunter snarled, before chuckling to himself.

"You clever old engine, you…"

"Oh dear, I'm sorry, um… I don't know what to call you."

"My name's Diesel, I think you'll find."

"Oh, okay!" Rebecca saw that her path was clear and started off.

"Sorry, Diesel-I-think-you'll-find! I'll be out of your way just as quick as I can!" Diesel growled.

* * *

All day, Rebecca continued in her way, confusing and annoying the other engines. She had less and less passengers throughout the day, though she was too busy trying to be early to notice. That evening, Rebecca panted into Vicarstown again. The moment waiting passengers saw her, they ran into Gordon's coaches.

"I'm sorry I'm late!"

"Late? _Late?_ Rebecca, I don't know what you're trying to pull, but you are_ not_ late!" Gordon scowled, "Are you trying to show me up?"

"What? No, I-"

"The whole day, Rebecca, you've been early! I've been getting more and more passengers throughout the day, and I've had to have even more coaches added on! I thought you were supposed to be helping!" Gordon realized what he said and looked away.

"…not that I need help."

"That's enough, Gordon." Gordon subsided into grumbling as the Fat Controller walked up to Rebecca.

"But all the same, he's right, Rebecca. You _have_ been showing up far too early. You have caused confusion and delay- oh. Um… Confusion and… Well, you've certainly caused a great deal of confusion!"

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir…" Rebecca sighed.

"All day, I've been getting countless complaints from passengers who were late because you either didn't pick them up or let them off," the Fat Controller added sternly, "If you are to work on my railway, Rebecca, you have to follow the timetable."

"I understand that now, sir. I haven't realized how early I've been. I just wanted to be noticed, sir," Rebecca said sadly, "All of your engines are so incredible, and I didn't want to be seen as just a nobody…"

"You are just as useful as any of my other engines. However, to prove it, you have to stick to the timetable." Rebecca smiled sheepishly.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"You'll soon get the hang of it, Rebecca. I'll be sure to tell the passengers you've learned your lesson," the Fat Controller chuckled as he walked away. Gordon couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt in his boiler and was about to say something when Flying Scotsman rolled in between them.

"Well, hello, little brother. Still delayed, are we?" Gordon grunted and looked away. Scotsman then noticed Rebecca.

"Ah, hello again, new engine."

"My name's Rebecca! I don't understand why you keep calling Gordon 'little brother', though. You look the same size to me. If anything, I think Gordon looks bigger!" Flying Scotsman looked at Gordon in horror.

"Huh?" Gordon, however, was delighted. The guard blew the whistle and Gordon started puffing off when a thought struck him.

"Say, Rebecca? Do you have a place to spend the night?"

"I don't think I do, actually. I haven't found a permanent shed yet."

"Then, why don't you stay at Tidmouth for the time being? I'll tell Percy he can stay on the branch line."

"R-Really?"

"Why not?" Gordon whistled and smirked at Flying Scotsman.

"See you later, _little_ brother." Flying Scotsman was speechless as Gordon steamed away, laughing. Rebecca whistled and hurried to catch up.

"Oh, wait for me, Gordon!"

* * *

When the two reached the shed that night, Henry was surprised to see them together.

"What's this, Gordon? I thought you didn't want Rebecca here."

"Nice tact, Henry," reproached Emily quietly. Gordon smirked.

"I've changed my mind. I've decided that if another engine must help me with the express, then she will do." Rebecca gasped excitedly at what she thought was praise from Gordon.

"Wow! Thank you, Gordon!" Henry raised an eyebrow at Emily but said nothing as Rebecca happily backed into her temporary berth. She was very happy that on her first night on Sodor, she would be surrounded by her new friends. knew she would have to find a permanent home soon, but she was happy to stay here for now with her new friends.

* * *

**Author's Note****: **Well, here we are. For the first batch of rewrites, they'll all be Sodor episodes from Season 22. From there, I'll figure it out. First, there's Confusion Without Delay. Why not Forever and Ever? Will explain that in a bit. I originally wrote this back in September 2018, but didn't think of posting it here until now. I have a few S22 rewrites written at this point, but felt it fit to post this one first, since Rebecca also pops up briefly in A Damper on Duncan, and I figured it best to adapt her introduction into my universe. Speaking of which, Nia isn't present in this version, nor will she be in any of the rewrites. This isn't due to prejudice of the character, but more so that since the rewrites' main purpose is to adapt these plotlines to align with my original stories and Nia isn't going to be a part of them. Also, Edward and Henry haven't left Tidmouth Sheds, so you can expect them to still pop up. Another small note: Despite what order these rewrites end up being, they're still in the same chronological order as they are in the official show, unless I say otherwise for whatever reason. I think I've rambled long enough for now, will have more to say next time when another Sodor newbie joins the fray. If you've watched the season, you might already know who it is.


	2. Seeing is Believing

**SEEING IS BELIEVING**

* * *

Spencer smirked proudly as he made his way down the main line towards the mainland with a Pullman coach in tow. He whistled as the Vicarstown Bridge came into view.

"Private engine coming through!" he grinned, despite no one being around to hear him... or so he thought. Another whistle blew from the distance, but it wasn't one that Spencer recognized. He narrowed his eyes as a large, silver tender engine he had never seen before rumbled onto the bridge.

"Who is _that_?" Spencer muttered.

"Hello!" the engine called as he raced past with a long train of steel. The steam from his three funnels created a thick cloud that blocked Spencer's vision, and the streamlined engine screeched to a halt.

"I can't see a thing!" Spencer complained loudly, but the engine had already left.

* * *

Down the line at Vicarstown, James the Red Engine was picking up some passengers before heading down the line with a local service. He didn't notice an engine slide quietly into another platform, who grinned eagerly at seeing him.

"Why, hello, James!" James jumped in surprise, as his eyes snapped to the other side of thes station. He gasped.

"_Merlin_?"

"Yes, it is I!" Merlin said dramatically, "You didn't see me there, did you? Don't worry, I get that a lot." James rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing here? I thought you worked at that…" He hesitated as memories of being held captive on the mainland came flooding back to him. "..._Steelworks_."

"Oh, I do! But steel has to go somewhere once it's made, and Frankie said this delivery here had to go to the Island of Sonar-"

"_Sodor_," James interrupted, deadpan. Merlin didn't seem to notice.

"-and I wanted to see what it was like for myself, so of course I volunteered! Now, here I am!" Merlin beamed proudly. James wasn't sure what to think. Luckily for him, Merlin kept talking. "Say, Frankie also said something about Brondam Docks. Do you know where that is?" James opened his mouth to correct him but instead sighed.

"Keep going straight until you reach a large junction just past Wellsworth. Go down the branch line, and don't stop until you reach the docks. You can't miss it." Merlin whistled and started rolling out of the station.

"Thank you, James! Pleasure to be working with you!" James cracked a smile as Merlin rolled out of sight.

* * *

Merlin carefully followed James' directions, making his way to Brendam Docks. He was so focused that he didn't notice the shocked looks of the engines he passed by. When he reached the docks, he was amazed by all the hustle and bustle.

"What a marvelous harbour this is! If only the others could have seen this," he sighed wistfully.

"Well, thank ye, matey!" chuckled Salty as he rolled alongside, "We do our best here. Isn't that right, Cranky?" Cranky, who had been unloading a ship, turned around.

"Sure," he scoffed, obviously unenthusiastic. He narrowed his eyes at Merlin.

"What kind of engine are _you _supposed to be?"

"Oh, I didn't introduce myself! I'm Merlin, an experimental engine! I've come from the Mainland!" He grinned.

"I can also turn _invisible_!" Porter raised an eyebrow as he passed by with some trucks.

"Invisible? How do you manage that?"

"With my three funnels, of course! Watch!" Merlin cleared his throat theatrically. "Invisibility _on_!" He closed his eyes and a cloud of steam erupted from his three funnels, covering him completely. The cloud eventually dissipated, revealing Merlin to be still there. Salty and Porter shared a look. Merlin opened an eye.

"See? You can't see me, can you? Incredible, isn't it?" Cranky rolled his eyes.

"Well, you're a few bolts loose alright. You'd fit right in here."

"Cranky!" Porter scolded before trying to smile genuinely at Merlin.

"Very… impressive, Merlin!"

"Why, thank you! It's a pity the others at the Steelworks don't appreciate it the way you all do." He gasped excitedly.

"Why don't I stay here, just for a while? I'm sure Frankie won't mind if I'm a little late. Besides, I still need to see Thomas again!"

"So you know Thomas, do you? Well, that explains a lot…" Cranky muttered. Merlin grinned at Salty.

"Any work I can do while I'm here?" Salty glanced at a long goods train on the other side of the quay.

"Well, er… Douglas was supposed to take this lot to Knapford, but he's been delayed, so-"

"On it!" Merlin cut in quickly, hurrying to fetch the train. Salty frowned at Porter.

* * *

Soon enough, Merlin was hard at work on the railway, hauling goods trains up and down the main line. He greatly enjoyed the change of scenery from the dark interior of the Steelworks, and was eager to chat with anyone he came across, including showing off his "trick." It wasn't long before the railway was buzzing with talk about Merlin.

"Did you know he can turn _invisible_, Sidney?" Paxton asked giddily at the shunting yard. Sidney gasped in amazement.

"Invisible? Wow! Uh… who are you talking about?" The two heard a whistle and Percy rolled in, looking just as puzzled as Sidney.

"Yes, Paxton, what _are _you talking about?"

"A magical engine from the Mainland has come to Sodor, Percy! He can turn himself invisible! I wonder if he can teach me how to do that…" Percy gasped excitedly.

"A magical engine! That sounds very exciting! Where are they?" Paxton thought for a moment.

"Well, uh… I don't know. Think it'd be a bit hard to spot an invisible engine, wouldn't it?" Percy pouted and rolled away, now determined to find the supposed "invisible engine."

* * *

However, to Percy's surprise, everywhere he went throughout the day, he never saw the "invisible engine", but he did hear everyone talk about them, much to his growing frustration.

"All he has to do is cover himself in steam and _poof_! He's gone!" Rebecca chatted excitedly to Emily as Percy rolled through Maron.

"Steam engines can be so odd, Den. Did you know there's an invisible engine roaming around?" Dart asked Den at the Dieselworks.

"Uh… no," Den replied simply.

"It's odd, isn't it? Why, 'e could be 'ere right now!" The two looked over to see Percy rolling in with a delivery of parts.

"Oh. It's just you, Percy." Percy scowled.

"I wonder if that invisible engine will come visit the Earl's museum once it's open!" Millie mused to Stephen at Ulfstead Castle, "Seems like it'd be better than living in a cramped steelworks anyway." Neither noticed Percy dropping off some trucks and immediately leaving. To make matters worse for Percy, he didn't actually see any sign of the invisible engine all day. He grew more and more frustrated.

At last, Percy arrived at Tidmouth Sheds for the night. He rolled onto the turntable and yawned, eager to forget about the invisible engine. However…

"That new engine is an odd one, isn't he?" Henry thought aloud.

"He is quite the character," Edward chuckled, "but he seems very nice." Henry grunted.

"Even so, he never stops talking. How did you two manage to put up with him?" he asked Thomas and James. James rolled his eyes.

"I'm still asking myself that."

"He may be a bit… eccentric," Thomas admitted, "but he's a good friend and-" Percy groaned as he backed into his berth.

"Ugh, enough about the 'invisible engine!' That's all any of you talk about!" Thomas and James shared a look. Thomas opened his mouth to speak but James cut him off.

"Well, an invisible engine would be big news, wouldn't it?" he smirked.

"But it's not fair!" Percy complained, "I didn't even get to see him! Why can't I?"

"You just said it, Percy. He's invisible. Therefore, you can't _see_ him." James laughed, making Percy grit his teeth.

"_Why?_ You all seemed to have seen him! I want to meet him too!"

"Never mind, Percy," put in Thomas before James could reply, "He told me he's going to be working here all day tomorrow. I'm sure you'll see him at least once." Percy gave a small smile. James started to laugh again.

"Or not!" Percy's smile disappeared as he harrumphed and reversed further into the shed. Thomas glared at James.

"Why didn't you let me explain Merlin's not _actually _invisible?" he whispered hoarsely. James snickered.

"Let him believe what he wants to. He'll find out one way or another." Thomas looked back at Percy, who was now fast asleep, and sighed dully.

Merlin had slept in the yard during the night, and the next morning, was searching for something to do. He saw a long line of trucks and gasped excitedly, only to frown as Henry backed down onto them and puffed away.

"Oh dear… I need a bit of excitement." Suddenly, Merlin spotted Thomas coupling up to Annie and Clarabel and grinned.

"Thomas!" Thomas looked up and smiled as Merlin pulled alongside.

"Hello again, Thomas! It's been a while, hasn't it? Have you been on any big adventures lately?"

"Not since my journey beyond Sodor. Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering if we could go on an adventure of our own today! Explore the island together! Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Um…" Almost immediately, Annie and Clarabel sternly cleared their throats from behind him.

"Don't you even think about it!" Annie scolded, "We have a duty to our passengers!"

"Quite right, Annie," Clarabel agreed, "It simply wouldn't do you for to gallivant off again." Thomas smiled sheepishly at Merlin.

"Sorry, Merlin." Merlin chuckled sadly.

"Oh… I understand. Ah well. Maybe some other time." He whistled and steamed away, leaving a concerned Thomas and a relieved Annie and Clarabel behind.

Merlin rolled through the junction and up to Knapford, hoping there would be something exciting there. Instead, he saw a little green engine sitting in the station, intensely scanning the platforms. Curiously, Merlin trundled forward.

"Hello there!" Percy jumped in surprise. "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to scare you. But what are you doing?"

"I'm looking for an engine. I'm sure he's around here somewhere." Percy glared at the farthest platform. "I know you're there!" he called, only to groan in disappointment as it turned out to be Philip shunting some coaches. Merlin watched with interest.

"An engine? What does he look like?"

"That's the thing; I don't know! It's an engine no one can see!" Merlin gasped.

"An engine no one can see? Oh my! That sounds very exciting!" Percy scoffed.

"It would be… if I could _find_ him." Merlin thought for a moment.

"You know, searching for an engine you can't see is no easy task; I would know. If you'd like, I can help you look for him!" Percy was surprised.

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course! It'd be a grand adventure, I'd say!" Merlin whistled and started reversing away. "Come on! I know all the best hiding spots that engine could be hiding in!" Percy grinned and quickly followed.

Together, Percy and Merlin looked all around the railway, searching for any possible sign of the invisible engine. First, they tried the Steamworks. Percy frowned as Merlin was lifted up into the air by the hoist. The two heard the clearing of a throat and Victor rolled up, looking very annoyed. Percy and Merlin smiled sheepishly. Cranky was unloading crates at Brendam Docks when, upon lifting one particularly large one, Merlin was underneath. Cranky gaped. At the scrapyard, Reg was singing to himself as usual, grabbing a large pile of scrap with his crane arm. He immediately dropped it as hiding underneath it was Merlin.

Merlin and Percy rolled along the main line, each looking rather dejected.

"As much as I hate to say this, we're having no luck finding this elusive fellow," Merlin sighed. A wide smile crossed his face. "I know! How about we split up? We can cover more ground that way."

"Good idea, Merlin! I'll check down the branch line!" Percy whistled and hurried into Knapford before racing down the junction to Thomas' line. The tank engine in question raised an eyebrow as he flew past.

"Percy?" Thomas looked ahead to see Merlin rolling in.

"Merlin?"

"Ah, Thomas! Have you seen an engine lately?" Thomas frowned, perplexed.

"I've seen many engines today, Merlin."

"No, no, that's not what I mean. Percy and I are looking for an engine you _can't_ see. I was wondering if you know where he is?" Thomas shared a glance with Annie and Clarabel. Immediately, he realized what had happened.

"Oh, bother that James…" he muttered crossly, "I'll give him a piece of my mind next time I see him."

"James? What did he do? Did he see him?" Thomas looked around to make sure Percy wasn't around to hear.

"Merlin, I'm not sure how to say this, but… you said he was 'an engine you can't see'?"

"Yes?" Merlin asked expectantly.

"Well, that means they're… _invisible_." Merlin blinked.

"Wait… you mean all day I was looking for… _myself_?"

"I suppose you could say that-" Merlin's laughter cut Thomas off.

"Oh, how brilliant! I'm so elusive I've even tricked myself! I didn't realize I was _that _good!" He suddenly stopped as a thought struck him.

"But what am I going to tell Percy? He's been seeing me all day; he won't believe me if I say I'm invisible now!" Thomas tried to speak but Merlin interrupted.

"Oh, I know! I can pretend to be the engine we were looking for! If Lexi can change voices, so can I! Thanks, Thomas!" Merlin whistled and rolled away, leaving Thomas to watch in horror.

"...oh no."

Percy had had no luck as he searched Thomas' Branch Line, and was returning to the station to regroup with Merlin. He sighed to himself as he stopped at a red signal.

"All this for nothing… I hope at least Merlin found something."

"Percy!" came a raspy voice Percy had never heard before. He jumped and looked around.

"H-Hello?" Percy called nervously, "Is someone there?"

"Why, yes! I've heard you've been looking for me!" Percy's eyes lit up like stars as a cloud of steam came closer to him. The rails creaked under the weight of the heavy engine.

"I-Is it really you?"

"Of course it's me, Percy! I must say, I'm very flattered you were so interested in me!" Percy could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"Well, everyone is too! You're the talk of the island! Now, I can see why!" Percy grinned, "What's your name?"

"Uh… Me… Mar… lin… tin... Martin… Yes, Martin!" The voice seemed unsure of itself, but Percy didn't notice. He was about to reply when the voice cut in. "I'm afraid I've got to go now, Percy. I'm only a visitor, you see." Percy's face fell.

"Oh… Goodbye, Martin!"

"Farewell, Percy! Dry rails and good running to you!" The cloud of steam backed away until it was out of sight. Percy was very giddy as the signal dropped.

"That was him! Really him! To think he was here all along! Just wait until I tell Merlin!" He whistled and hurried away, passing a siding hidden by trees. In the siding, Merlin sighed with relief and smiled.

Percy raced back up the line as quickly as he could. He pulled into Knapford, panting heavily.

"Merlin? Merlin! Guess what?"

"What is it, Percy?" Percy jumped as Merlin was suddenly right beside him. Nonetheless, Percy smiled giddily.

"I saw him, Merlin! I saw him! You just missed him! He was just a short ways down Thomas' line!" Merlin chuckled.

"That's wonderful, Percy! I knew you could find him! I suppose this concludes our adventure, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but it was a lot of fun, Merlin! Maybe when you next come to Sodor, we can have another one!" Merlin grinned.

"I'd like that a lot, Percy." He whistled and rolled away, leaving Percy to sigh happily. Unbeknownst to them, Thomas and James had been watching from the yard and had heard everything. Thomas chuckled.

"Well, well, well! What do you think of that, James?" James was too stunned to say anything.

Later that day, Merlin had to return home to the Steelworks. Thomas and James waited at Vicarstown Station to see him off.

"Sorry Percy couldn't come, Merlin, but he offered to take my train for me," Thomas said apologetically.

"Never mind, Thomas; I'm sure we'll see each other again very soon! ...provided Frankie doesn't tear my tender off when I get back." Merlin and Thomas laughed, though James merely chuckled awkwardly.

"Well, goodbye, Merlin. It was fun having you here."

"Uh… sure, what he said," James added quickly. Merlin chuckled.

"Thank you both! Farewell, friends! I'll come back as soon as I can!" He whistled loud and long and roared out of the station. As he approached the Vicarstown Bridge, Samson was coming the other way with a goods train, who was too busy talking to Bradford to notice him.

"Bradford, please, I know there's a signal up ahead, you don't need to tell me."

"I clearly do, boyo. You don't have a good enough record to think otherwise." On the other line, Merlin grinned.

"Invisibility, _on!_" Steam erupted from Merlin's funnels, covering Samson and Bradford in a cloud of steam.

"Look sharp, Samson! We've been ambushed!" Bradford coughed as the steam slowly started to dissipate, "Show yourself, you delinquent!" But Merlin had already gone.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Originally I was going to post a different rewrite to make them in the same order as the season, but I figured it made more sense to post them in order of when they were written. This one was written back in January 2019, so much more recent than the previous. This one was a fun one, particularly because of Merlin. I decided to give him a more proactive role here, since in the episode itself, he's more of an observer than anything. Speaking of Merlin, it was fun trying to figure out how to write him, and I think I did a decent job. As hinted at towards the end, Merlin will appear again in my original stories. When, I don't know, but it'll happen. The other Steelworks engines may appear too, who knows. More differences include the omission of Trevor, since he didn't really fit the new plot I had created, and the new plot itself, which is Percy and Merlin together trying to find the "invisible engine", which I think is a much funner premise than what the episode had, but ah well, timeframes and all that. This also had a pretty diverse cast (for CGI standards anyway) with Millie, Den and Dart, Sidney, Paxton, Bradford, Victor and Reg making brief appearances. It was fun giving some of these characters more to do than they had in the season proper, which will become a bit of a common theme during the rest of these rewrites.


	3. Schoolhouse Ryan

**SCHOOLHOUSE RYAN**

* * *

A storm had rolled in over the Island of Sodor. The wind was starting to pick up, and it was forecasted it could start raining heavily any minute. Ryan, the tank engine who worked on the Harwick Branch Line, was eager to find shelter as soon as possible. He raced up to the shed, panting heavily.

"Phew! Made it just in time!" he sighed with relief. Daisy, who was already there dozing, opened a sleepy eye.

"What time is it?" She then noticed Ryan, shivering nervously next to her. "Ryan? What are you doing here? Don't you have trucks to pull?"

"I-I'm not going out there during a storm! I could get struck by lightning, o-or hit by a fallen tree, or who knows what else! At least in here, it's safe!" Daisy rolled her eyes at Ryan's cowardice and closed them again.

"Whatever you say, Ryan." A crash of thunder made Ryan yelp in fright. He gulped nervously as rain started pouring down outside.

* * *

The storm lasted all day, but by the next morning, it had passed. Ryan opened an eye to make sure the coast was clear.

"Huh. There doesn't seem to be much damage," he commented. Daisy snorted.

"Good. Maybe next time there's a storm you won't cower in your shed then."

"You didn't go out either!" Ryan said defensively.

"You can't expect _me_ to go out in such rain, Ryan. My mascara will run. Besides, who'd want to travel in that weather anyway?" Ryan pouted and rolled away to fetch some trucks. As he puffed into Harwick, he was surprised to see Duck at the station throat, Jack loading his trucks with debris.

"What happened here?" Ryan gasped. Jack reversed from the trucks and smiled.

"Oh, hello, Ryan. The school in Harwick got badly damaged by the storm yesterday, so Duck and I are helping to clear it all up."

"Maybe you would know that if you didn't leave the rest of us to do _your_ work while you hid in the shed," Duck mused. Ryan chuckled sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, Duck, I just don't do well in storms. I thought everyone else took shelter too!"

"Some of us have to keep things running, no matter the weather, Ryan. Trains don't stop just because there's a bit of thunder," Duck replied briskly. He whistled and rolled away, leaving Ryan to sigh.

"Oh dear… I suppose Duck's not too happy with me."

"Never mind, Ryan," Jack said sympathetically, "I don't work well in storms either." But Ryan still couldn't help but feel guilty.

* * *

Ryan had soon collected his trucks and arrived at Knapford, where Thomas was waiting to depart with Annie and Clarabel. He was so busy wondering how he could make things up to Duck that he didn't notice Daisy pull into the station.

"Oh, get off, get off! Stop that, you hooligans!" Daisy groaned as several children poured out of her and onto the platform. Thomas chuckled.

"What's the problem now, Daisy?" Daisy glared.

"The _problem_, Thomas, is thanks to that blasted storm, all the children from Harwick's school have to come down here to Knapford instead!" Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"Harwick? I would've thought they'd have gone to Arlesburgh. It's closer, isn't it?"

"That's what I said! But _no_, apparently there just isn't enough room there, so they asked _me_ to take them here this morning. Ugh, why couldn't a bus have done it instead? For once, I want that dratted Bulgy to take my passengers."

"Be careful what you wish for…" Thomas muttered. Ryan had overheard the conversation and gasped.

"Taking children! That sounds like a fun job!" Daisy scowled.

"_Fun?!_ Listen, Ryan, you don't know passengers like I do, especially _children_. No matter what you tell them, they'll always make a mess! I have crumbs in my lovely upholstery, sticky handprints all over my clean windows, and don't even mention my springs." While she was ranting, all the children had gotten off, and her guard blew the whistle. Daisy shuddered.

"You'll have to take the children back this afternoon, Thomas. I'm off to see my fitter." She honked her horn and hurried away.

"Wait, Daisy!" Thomas protested, "I'm busy on my branch line! You can't just… ugh. Even when not working on the same line anymore, she still manages to dump all her jobs on me."

"Oh, can I do it, Thomas? Please? I'd love that!" Ryan pleaded. Thomas looked unsure.

"I wouldn't mind, Ryan, but you're not exactly a passenger engine. Maybe I should ask Duck-"

"Don't bother with that, Thomas!" Ryan cut in, worrying that if Duck got extra work, he'd be more annoyed at him, "I'll just find a coach to take them in later!" He whistled and rolled away before Thomas could object.

* * *

Ryan traveled back up the Little Western with another goods train, starting to realize the predicament he had just gotten himself into.

"Oh dear… Where am I going to find a coach?" He pulled into Bluff's Cove to wait for a red signal. Up ahead on the nearby siding, Ryan spotted Whiff peering into a couple of rubbish trucks. Ryan whistled to get Whiff's attention.

"Hello, Whiff! Um… what are you doing?" Whiff grinned.

"Looking for recycling, Ryan! You'd never guess what things people throw away when really, they're still good as new! Like, hmm… This old tyre!" Whiff's driver stuck a gloved hand into one of the trucks and pulled out a dusty car tyre.

"See, Ryan?" Whiff called back, "Just bung on a couple of chains and you can use it as a swing!" Ryan had no idea what Whiff was talking about, yet still smiled in encouragement regardless.

"That's nice, Whiff! Good on you!" The signal dropped and Ryan hurried away. Whiff glanced at his driver, who held up a trumpet.

"Er… do you want to test it out?" The driver immediately tossed it back into the rubbish truck.

"Oh."

* * *

Upon dropping off his trucks at Arlesburgh, Ryan looked all around for a coach, but the task was easier said than done. Ryan spotted the Slip Coaches on a siding and gasped.

"Those would be perfect!" The Slip Coaches shared confused looks as Ryan puffed towards them.

"Hello! I'm Ryan, and I need a coach to pick up the children from school! Are any of you available?" Before any of the baffled coaches could reply, Duck backed down onto them, cutting Ryan off from reaching them.

"These are _my_ coaches, Ryan," Duck said firmly, "You can't just take them for some other job." Ryan raised an eyebrow.

"Your coaches? I didn't know you could own coaches. Do I have my own then?" Duck sighed. Ryan rolled into Knapford Station, grinning as he saw Gordon at the platform with his express coaches.

"Say, Gordon, um-"

"_No._" Ryan's face fell, disappointed.

"But you don't know what-"

"I don't have time for whatever it is you want, Ryan. The express waits for no one!" Gordon whistled and puffed away importantly. Sadly, Ryan puffed into the yard, hoping to find a spare coach there. A line of red branch line coaches stood on a siding. Ryan advanced towards them, but Stafford rolled past, pushing them away. Ryan groaned.

* * *

Ryan rolled down the Little Western again, desperately searching for a coach not in use. To his dismay, he only found Oliver with a goods train at Haultraugh. Oliver frowned as Ryan pulled in.

"Ryan? What's the matter?"

"Daisy doesn't want to take the children to school and back, Oliver, so I volunteered to help, but there isn't a coach I can use anywhere!" Ryan explained, exasperated. Oliver thought for a moment.

"Are you sure there isn't, Ryan? There are a lot of coaches on Sodor."

"If I may make a suggestion, Mr. Ryan, why don't you ask The Fat Controller? I'm sure he could arrange something," suggested Toad. Ryan gasped in realization.

"Of course! Why didn't I think of that before! That would've been much easier than going around the railway looking for one!" Oliver and Toad shared a look.

"Thanks, you two! I owe you one!" Ryan whistled and eagerly reversed away.

"Erm, what exactly does he owe us, Mr. Oliver?" Toad asked curiously.

* * *

The sun was higher in the sky now, and Ryan knew he was running out of time. He puffed back down the line to Knapford as quickly as he could.

"I must find a coach, I must!" he panted to himself. As he passed by some bushes, a voice called out.

"Oh, hello! Who's looking for a coach?" Ryan froze, looking around nervously.

"W-Who said that?" he stammered.

"Don't be frightened! I'm over here! That's it, this way!" the voice called. Ryan looked over and spotted a glimpse of red behind the bushes.

"Huh?" His driver hopped down and switched the points, which looked like they hadn't been used for a long time. Reluctantly, Ryan rolled forward, feeling the old rails creak under him. To his shock, at the end of a siding stood an old coach. Its windows were broken, and it was leaning on one side.

"W-Who are you?" The coach grinned eagerly.

"I'm Dexter!" Ryan yelped as a rat scurried over the track in front of him.

"I'm… Ryan. How long have you been here?"

"A long time, I think. I've lost count; I was once a fancy dining coach, but I was shunted here after me axles went, you see. A new supply of rolling stock came in at the time, and the board decided it wasn't worth the money to mend me." Ryan was about to speak when Dexter cut him off.

"But that doesn't matter now! You're here, and clearly looking for a coach, and here I am! It's like it was destiny! What's the job?"

"I was going to pick up the children from Knapford, but-"

"Oh, children! I love children! They make an old coach feel young again! This is perfect! Just pull me out of here and we'll be on our way!" Ryan thought for a moment.

"Well… I do need a coach, and I've used old trucks before without a hitch." Ryan smiled. "Come on, Dexter!" Dexter grinned giddily as the purple tank engine was coupled up to him. Ryan heaved, but Dexter wouldn't budge.

"It's just me old brakes, they must be locked on. No matter, just pull harder!" Dexter encouraged. Ryan obliged, but instead of pulling Dexter out of the siding, the old coach's axles broke completely. Ryan sighed.

"I'm sorry, Dexter. I do need a coach, but… oh, what's the use? I'm just not any good at pulling coaches. Maybe Thomas was right…"

"Don't say that, silly! When you were pulling me, it felt wonderful! The first time I moved in years!" Ryan frowned.

"You barely moved an inch."

"An inch is better than nothing at all!" Dexter smiled, "One wheel-turn at a time! I just need some new wheels, windows, paint, and I'll be as good as new!" Ryan's driver uncoupled him from Dexter and he started rolling away.

"I can be useful, honestly! You're not leaving, are you? We just met!" But Ryan didn't reply as he sadly puffed out of sight. Dexter frowned for a moment before smiling again.

"He'll come back."

* * *

Ryan trundled along the Little Western back up to Arlesburgh, having abandoned his plan to speak to the Fat Controller. He did feel bad about leaving Dexter, but he felt worse since he thought he let everyone down.

"Ryan?" Ryan looked up and saw Daisy on the other side of the level crossing.

"Oh. Hello, Daisy."

"Where are you going? Thomas told me you were picking up the children from school today!" Ryan sighed.

"Sorry, Daisy. I did want to, but I can't find a coach anywhere. Besides, maybe it's best I don't do it anyway…"

"Well, I certainly can't do it! I was just cleaned!" Daisy protested, "And it could be months before that school gets repaired!" At the mention of repairs, Ryan's mind drifted back to Dexter.

"I wonder if…" A broad grin crossed Ryan's face. "That's it!"

"What's it?"

"Don't worry, Daisy! I have this all under control, you'll see! Now, no one will have to pick up the children from school!" The crossing gates opened and Ryan raced through. Daisy was still confused.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

* * *

In the yard at Arlesburgh, Duck was shunting Judy and Jerome into their siding after using them to clear some debris from the track when Ryan pulled in, screeching to a halt. Duck frowned as he reversed from the two cranes.

"Ryan? What's the hurry?"

"No time to explain, Duck! The children will be let out soon! Can you take them please?"

"Weren't you going to take them, Ryan? That's why were you fussing so much about a coach, wasn't it?"

"Sorry, Duck, but I can't. You know more about coaches than I do; you'd be better suited for the job." Duck was impressed.

"Well then, I don't see why not-"

"Perfect!" Ryan interrupted as he was coupled up to the breakdown train, "Come on Judy and Jerome, we have a coach to save!"

"A coach? What does he mean by that, Judy?"

"Probably just one that derailed in the yard, Jerome; must've been blown off the tracks by the wind last night. We're right behind you, Ryan!" Ryan whistled and puffed triumphantly away. Duck stared in bewilderment.

* * *

Dexter sat on his lonely siding, still waiting for Ryan to return.

"He is coming back, isn't he?" he wondered aloud, "Surely, he didn't just abandon me… right?" Just as he was started to have his doubts, Ryan's whistle blew, and he rolled into the siding, a stunned Judy and Jerome behind him.

"Ryan!" Dexter cried gleefully. Ryan smiled.

"Hello, Dexter! Meet Judy and Jerome!" The two cranes glanced at each other.

"Was this coach really left to rust here, Judy?"

"I suppose so; poor little thing. Don't worry, Dexter. We're going to get you out of here!" Dexter gasped.

"Out of this siding, you mean? Hooray! Are we going to pick up those children now, Ryan?" Ryan chuckled.

"Yes, but not in the way you think!" Carefully, Judy and Jerome lifted Dexter from his siding and onto the flatbed between them. Dexter grew more and more excited as Ryan pulled him back to Harwick. Duck, who had just brought the children back from Knapford, gaped as Ryan entered the station.

"R-Ryan?!"

"Hello, Duck!" Ryan said cheerfully. The children were surprised too, as Dexter was carefully lowered onto some bricks near the station. "Come on, everyone!" Ryan called to them, "Let's get Dexter looking brand new again!" Dexter was delighted as excited children ran over to him. Soon, they had scraped off his old paint and the time had come to repaint him.

"How about blue?" Dexter suggested eagerly, "I always wanted to be blue, but all the other coaches were red!" And so it was; the children all started repainting him. Dexter was surprised, however, when the children started adding their own drawings to him.

"Er, Ryan? I love the drawings, but would the passengers approve? It looks a bit informal, doesn't it?"

"Maybe, but that's the thing; you're not carrying passengers, Dexter! You're going to become the new classroom for the children!" Ryan had hoped that Dexter wouldn't mind this new, sudden change in job, and to his amazement, Dexter started laughing with joy.

"Me as a classroom! Why, it's like a dream come true! Thank you, Ryan! This is much better than being on that siding any day!"

* * *

It took a few more days to restore Dexter and set up everything inside for the children. In the meantime, Duck continued taking the children to Knapford. One day, Dexter's restoration was complete, and Duck and Ryan watched as the first day of school inside him commenced.

"I'll admit, Ryan," Duck remarked, "it's unconventional, but clever." Ryan beamed, feeling he had redeemed himself in Duck's eyes.

"Thanks, Duck! But really, it's Dexter who agreed to it! Everything alright, Dexter?"

"It's more than alright, Ryan; it's amazing!" Dexter grinned. Ryan and Duck shared a look.

"It's only temporary, though, isn't it? The school in the town's going to be repaired eventually."

"Which would mean you'd get to go back to working on the railway, Dexter," Ryan added, "Would you like that?" Dexter thought for a moment.

"No thank you, Ryan. I appreciate the offer, but I'm more than happy staying as I am! Even without wheels, I'm still really useful!" From then on, Dexter was the new classroom. He and Ryan remained firm friends as whenever Ryan would arrive at Harwick, he would see Dexter, continuing to be really useful, just in a different way.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This one was written in late January, so not too long ago at the time of me posting this. This rewrite's the first one that has a changed lead, though it won't be the last. In the episode it was Duck, and that worked greatly, don't get me wrong, yet part of me wondered what it'd be like if Ryan was the lead instead, which spawned this. Writing this helped me figure some stuff out, mainly how to write Ryan and how he interacts with others. There's also Duck, who despite being demoted, still managed to maintain a large role, which wasn't on purpose but I'm happy it happened. I managed to sneak Oliver and Toad in, since for some reason they were completely absent in Season 22. I also replaced Reg's scene in the episode with Whiff since Ryan going to the scrapyard seemed a bit out of place; plus. it gave me a chance to utilize Whiff a bit, which is always nice. Dexter, meanwhile, is set up here to be used in my stories at some point in the future. The next rewrite, however, isn't gonna set anything in particular up like the first three have, though hopefully it'll still be worthwhile. See you then!


	4. Henry's Animal Ark

**HENRY'S ANIMAL ARK**

* * *

It was Christmas Eve on the Island of Sodor, and as expected, snow had come, but it was heavier than usual, and the engines were finding it difficult to work, particularly Henry, who had been taking heavy trains of goods to and from the docks.

"I can hardly feel my wheels it's so cold!" Henry complained as he puffed along, "Why should I have to put up with these conditions?" In the distance, he could see the Sodor Animal Park, along with a man standing on the platform, huddling a shivering monkey in his hands. Henry frowned as he slowed down and stopped at the platform.

"Everything alright, Headkeeper Jack?" he asked. Headkeeper Jack solemnly shook his head.

"Afraid not, Henry. This cold has been too much for our old boiler, and now it's broken down. We _need_ that boiler to keep the animals warm, or else they could end up freezing!" Henry instantly felt guilty about griping so much about the cold.

"Oh dear, that sounds like quite the predicament. Is there anything I could do to help?" Headkeeper Jack sighed.

"I don't know, to tell you the truth. We placed an order for a new boiler, and it was supposed to come today at Brendam, but it hasn't shown up!" Henry thought for a moment.

"I'm on my way to the docks myself. If I can, I'll try and find out what's keeping that boiler for you." Henry whistled and started rolling away, leaving Headkeeper Jack to worriedly look down at the monkey, which had tried wrapping part of a scarf around itself for warmth.

* * *

"Those poor animals… I'm lucky, I at least have a fire with me at all times to keep me warm," Henry mused to himself as he pulled into Brendam Docks. Emily had gotten there just before he did, and had braked to a halt beside Cranky.

"Sorry it took me so long to get here, Cranky," Emily called up, "But this snow's causing havoc everywhere!"

"Too bad for you," Cranky sneered, "You wasted your time coming here." Emily raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" she asked nervously. Cranky rolled his eyes.

"That ship isn't coming, that's why." Emily and Henry gasped.

"Wait, why?!" Emily cried.

"Pah! It's always 'why' with you engines, isn't it? Don't know, don't care." Cranky turned around, ending the conversation. Emily and Henry shared a horrified look. Just then, the two heard a horn and Salty rolled up with some trucks.

"Argh, he's just messing with ye, me hearties. That ship will come, just not until after Christmas. I hear the sea's frozen over."

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?" Henry spluttered, "It'll be too late by then! What'll happen to the animals?" Salty grimaced.

"Er, sorry, matey. Only trying to be helpful."

"What kind of a question is that?" Cranky snorted, turning back around, "They'll-"

"We're not going to let it get to that," Henry interrupted quickly, "There has to be another way to keep them warm… there _has_ to be!"

"Maybe we could take them somewhere else, somewhere that's still warm," Emily suggested. Henry grinned.

"That's it! Brilliant idea, Emily! I'll speak to The Fat Controller about it! He'll have to understand!" Henry whistled and hurried out of the docks. Cranky watched him leave, scoffing.

"Only Henry would care so much about silly animals. What have they ever done for anyone?"

"Look, an elephant!" Salty called out. Cranky yelped and looked all around.

"Where?!" Salty, Porter and Emily burst into laughter as Cranky scowled.

* * *

Meanwhile, Henry was racing to Knapford as quickly as he could. He approached the Animal Park again, Headkeeper Jack still standing on the platform with the monkey.

"Henry? What's happened?"

"The ship can't make it, Jack, but I have an idea!" Henry called, but was already out of sight before Jack could ask what that idea was. Jack sighed and patted the monkey on the head.

* * *

Henry pulled into Knapford, about to call out for the Fat Controller, when he saw him on a ladder, trying to place a star on top of the station's Christmas tree. Henry glanced at James, who was watching the scene with bemusement.

"What's he doing, James?"

"He insisted _he_ put the star on the tree," James explained, "Something about him wanting to personally help with the decorating for a change. Doesn't look like he's going to actually do it, though." Henry looked back to the Fat Controller, who was visibly struggling to stretch his arm enough to reach the top.

"You're almost, there, sir!" a workman encouraged, holding the ladder steady.

"Just another… erm… foot!" another added. The Fat Controller sighed in defeat and started clambering down the ladder.

"It's no good… I'm just not as flexible as I used to be. Sorry, lads." He hopped onto the platform, startled to see Henry.

"Henry? When did you get here?"

"Sir, there's an emergency at the Animal Park! The boiler has broken down, and the new one can't make it, so we need to take the animals someplace warm in the meantime!" The Fat Controller was about to reply when James spoke first.

"If you want to talk about someplace warm, I just got back from the Steamworks, and it was _blistering_ in there! I don't know how they get anything done in there without melting!"

"That's quite enough, James," the Fat Controller cut in, "but a very good idea nonetheless. Henry, there are some special trucks for carrying animals in the yard. I want you to collect them and take all of the animals that you can to the Steamworks." Henry smiled.

"Thank you, sir!" He rushed out of the station as James groaned.

"Why did I say anything…" While the Fat Controller's back was turned, one of the workmen hurriedly climbed the ladder and easily placed the star on top of the tree. The Fat Controller turned around, saw this and glared at him.

* * *

Henry rolled into the shunting yard, scanning the sidings for the special trucks. Suddenly, he spotted Stanley shunting them away. Henry gasped.

"Stanley, wait! Stop!" Stanley looked back and braked as Henry rolled alongside. "What are you doing with those trucks?" Stanley raised an eyebrow.

"Shunting them into the goods shed. These won't be needed until spring at the earliest, may as well save some space."

"But _I_ need them!"

"You do? What for?"

"No time to explain, Stanley! Just give me them!" Stanley relented and reversed away so Henry could couple up. Henry whistled and hurried over to them.

* * *

Soon, Henry was out on the main line again, hurrying back to the Animal Park. However, he didn't get very far before he could see Donald and Douglas up ahead ploughing the snow, with a coach between them. Henry groaned as he had to slow down.

"Come on, you two! What's the holdup? This is an emergency!"

"Emergency or no, laddie," Donald said, annoyed, "we have tae clear th' tracks, or engines lik' ye would get stuck fast." Henry rolled his eyes.

"I'm more powerful than you, I'd have no trouble clearing the snow by myself!"

"Says ye," chuckled Douglas, "Snow disnae care if ye have somewhere tae be or nae. Leave it tae th' experts."

"But I _have_ to get through!" Henry protested, starting to get desperate, "There are animals that are very cold and need my help!" The twins shared a look. "Please!" Douglas sighed.

"Alright, lad. Ye can pass through, just this once." He and Donald rolled onto a siding in order to let Henry roll by. Donald glared back at Douglas.

"What'd ye dae that for?"

"He seemed tae be telling th' truth. In any case, if he does get stuck, maybe it'll teach him a lesson, eh?" Henry flew by the siding, spraying the twins with snow as he passed. Donald spat out some from his mouth and gritted his teeth.

"Ye better be right…"

* * *

Headkeeper Jack stared worriedly out into the snow, hoping there would be some sign of the boiler soon. The monkey in his arms was started to get agitated from being in the cold for so long.

"It's okay, little fella. You'll be all warmed up soon." He heard a whistle and looked up; suddenly, he gasped; Henry puffed triumphantly in, hauling a long train of special trucks behind him. "Henry? What's all this?"

"We're going to be taking all the animals to the Steamworks! It's nice and warm there!" Henry smiled proudly.

"Wow, what a Christmas miracle! I'll tell the other keepers to start rounding up the animals. Thank you so much, Henry!" Henry grinned.

"The pleasure is all mine," he said with an air of importance. Soon, the other keepers had been told about the plan. Henry was amazed as elephants, giraffes, camels, monkeys, hippos, zebras, ostriches and even a giant panda walked into his trucks. Jack, still holding his monkey, climbed aboard Henry's cab.

"I know, we've quite the selection here, but you need one to draw a crowd! It may be a bit of a heavy load, but I'm sure you can do it, right, Henry?" Henry tried to smile.

"Of course! No trouble at all," he agreed, secretly a little intimidated by all the large animals. Henry's driver glanced at the monkey.

"Do we… have to have him in here?"

"Don't worry, he doesn't bite," Jack reassured, though the monkey seemed to be glaring at the driver. The driver grimaced.

"Well, if you say so… Ready, Henry?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Henry muttered. He blew his whistle, causing the monkey to screech loudly in the cab. The driver jumped back as Henry rolled out of the Animal Park.

* * *

Henry started his long journey to the Steamworks; it was hard work pushing through the snow as well as hauling the heavy animals, but he kept going regardless. However, there was trouble ahead. Henry groaned as he approached a very large snowdrift.

"Oh no! We'll never get through that! Where are Donald and Douglas when you _actually_ need them?" Henry managed to brake just before the snowdrift, letting off a lot of steam. The steam flooded the cab, and the monkey started screeching again. Henry winced. "Oops." Jack poked his head out the window.

"Where are we supposed to go now? It's only going to get colder out here." Henry frowned until a thought struck him.

"Maybe we could head to Tidmouth Sheds? Our boilers and fireboxes are pretty hot, they could keep the animals warm."

"I'm sorry, Henry, but that's just not feasible," Jack sighed, "Your boiler is hot, but it's _too_ hot; what if the animals burn themselves on you? That's not even mentioning that it might take a long time for the new boiler to arrive; I don't think the Fat Controller would like it if you all had to stay in the sheds for days on end."

"And I'm certainly not going to stay in the shed for days with _this_ thing," the driver added, pointing nervously at the monkey. Jack chuckled. Henry narrowed his eyes at the snowdrift ahead of him.

"Then I suppose that leaves only one option…" Henry's sandboxes dropped sand on the rails so he could get a good grip. He looked down at his snowplough. "Snowplough, don't fail me now…" He whistled and slowly started to move. He quickly sped up, charging at the snowdrift. Snow flew in all directions, coating Henry in a cold layer of white, but he didn't care as he whooshed through the tunnel. The three men cheered.

"Well done, old boy, well done!" the driver cheered. Henry grinned and surged ahead in the direction of the Steamworks.

* * *

However, another obstacle came when Henry arrived at Gordon's Hill.

"Are you sure you can make it up there, Henry?" Headkeeper Jack asked worriedly, "Maybe we should-"

"No, I can," Henry insisted, "It'll be easy. Just you watch." Henry whistled and raced up the slope with a will. He was about halfway to the top when he heard a whistle. To his surprise, Rebecca was coming down the other side with one of her secondary express services.

"Rebecca? What are you doing out here?"

"Same reason as you, I imagine; doing work!" Rebecca ogled at all the animals aboard Henry's unusual train. "Wow! What's all this, Henry?"

"Sorry, Rebecca, I'll explain later!" Rebecca frowned as Henry approached the top.

"If you say so! Oh, Henry, wait! There are deep snowdrifts down at the bottom! Be careful!"

"Sure thing, Rebecca!" Henry called, though he didn't sound like he really meant it. Henry rolled over the top of the hill and started cascading down the other side. Henry tried his best to brake, but the heavy weight of all the animals pushed him onward, and the icy rails made it difficult to grip. "This was a mistake!" Henry yelled as he rolled around the bend at the bottom of the hill and flew into a snowdrift. The driver poked his head out the window.

"Well, that's torn it; you're not going anywhere now."

"N-No!" Henry stammered, "I pushed through the last snowdrift, I can get through this one too!" He tried moving forward, but the snow was even heavier than the last drift, and his wheels barely moved at all. Henry eventually gave up and groaned. "It's no use… We really are stuck this time."

* * *

Down the main line, Donald and Douglas were still at work clearing the tracks for the other engines, Donald still bitter about Henry.

"Muckle nuisance… It's tae give 'im a good buffer bashing, I be wantin'." Douglas was about to reply when Emily rolled up, looking frantic.

"Have either of you seen Henry? He was supposed to be at the Steamworks by now, but they say he hasn't shown up!" The twins smirked at each other.

"Are ye thinking what a'm thinking, Dougie?"

"Aye, Donnie. Looks like ol' 'powerful Henry' ended up in a snowy situation!" The two started to laugh, much to Emily's confusion.

"It's not funny, you two! He has precious cargo with him! They could be out there all night!" Douglas chuckled.

"Dinna fash yerself, lass. We'll get 'im out in a couple of puffs." Donald and Douglas each whistled and rolled away to the rescue, leaving Emily behind.

* * *

Meanwhile, Henry was growing colder and colder by the minute. He was feeling miserable and was starting to fear for the worst when one of the elephants trumpeted loudly behind him. Henry gasped.

"That's it!"

"What's it?" inquired the driver curiously. Henry grinned.

"Elephants are very powerful creatures! A long time ago, me and some workmen were pushed out of a tunnel by a circus elephant! So, if one elephant could do that, why can't two push me and the rest of the animals through the snow?" The driver and Jack looked at each other.

"Do you think it'll work?" the driver asked. Jack glanced at the elephants, who were starting to look restless.

"Well, it's better than the alternative. Let's give it a try." Jack led the elephants out of the trucks and towards the brake van. Jack nodded and the elephants started to push. Up front, Henry could start to feel himself moving.

"Yes, yes, that's it! Keep pushing!" Henry called back. As the elephants continued to push the train onward, two deep-toned whistles sounded out. Donald and Douglas rounded the bend, each with determined looks on their faces.

"Dinna fash yerself, Henry! Seems ye weren't so powerful after…" Donald broke off, gaping at the sight before him. "Dougie, I haven't gone mad, have I? A'm really seeing what a'm seeing?" Douglas looked just as confused as Donald. Henry looked back and burst into laughter at the looks on the twins' faces.

"Hello, you two! Fancy coming all this way to rescue me, when I rescued myself!" By this time, the elephants had managed to push Henry all the way through the snowdrift, and he could continue on his own again. "Ah well, maybe next time you'll be luckier, eh? Cheerio!" Donald and Douglas were stunned as Headkeeper Jack led the elephants back into their trucks. Henry, still laughing, whistled and headed back on his way.

* * *

For the rest of Henry's journey, he kept fighting the snow, constantly pushing heavy amounts of it aside with his snowplough. Nonetheless, he kept going for Jack and the animals. By the time he arrived at the Steamworks, he was exhausted. Victor was waiting from him at the entrance.

"Henry, my friend, you made it! Thank goodness; I was almost starting to think you weren't coming!" Henry smiled wryly.

"I thought the same, to be honest. It's only thanks to the elephants I'm even here." Victor raised an eyebrow.

"Elephants?" Henry chuckled.

"It's a bit of a long story. Come on, let's get inside. I don't think I can stand another moment in this snow." Victor and Henry rolled inside the Steamworks. Headkeeper Jack hopped down from the cab, taking off his scarf.

"You weren't lying when you said it was warm in here, Henry," he remarked. Henry smiled, but was startled to hear two familiar whistles. Henry looked back, surprised to see Donald and Douglas entering the Steamworks, rolling alongside him.

"Donald? Douglas? What are you two doing here?"

"Wanted tae get oot o' th' cold," Donald explained simply. Douglas gave him a look. "Oh, and er, congratulate ye."

"Congratulate me? Why?"

"Ye took on a terrible blizzard just tae mak' sure thae animals were safe," Douglas cut in before Donald could reply.

"And I can't thank you enough for it, Henry," Jack added, "Without you, these animals might not have lived to see next Christmas." Henry blushed modestly.

"Oh, er, it was nothing, really." Donald smirked at Douglas.

"Och, look at that, Dougie! Now he's modest! A rare sight indeed!" The twins laughed, causing Henry to scowl.

"Alright, alright, that's enough, you two," Victor interrupted, "You all should head back to Tidmouth now." The three engines shared a look and came to a silent agreement.

"Actually, Victor," ventured Henry, "I'm not sure we'll be able to make it through the snow back home. Can we stay here for the night?"

"Are you sure? I'm not certain if sleeping with animals is the most… pleasant thing."

"Perhaps not, but it's better than getting stuck in another snowdrift," Henry huffed wryly, causing Victor to laugh.

"Point taken. Goodnight, you three."

"Goodnight, Victor!" all three engines said at once as Victor rolled away, leaving the three engines to look out into the darkening sky.

"I'm sorry for being boastful," Henry mumbled at last. Donald snickered.

"Come again?" Henry glared.

"I said _I'm sorry_. Ugh, look, I was just worried about the animals, and-"

"Aye, dinna fash yerself; we get it, laddie."

"Oh…" An awkward silence between the trio until Henry broke it. "Merry Christmas, you two." The twins smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Henry." The three engines shut their eyes and fell fast asleep.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Getting closer and closer to the present; this one was written in February, so only last month, which is pretty short in writing time. It seemed a bit odd to me that Thomas got all the international side of things in Season 22, and still got a couple Sodor episodes too. So, considering that, that inspired me to rewrite the episode, and I swapped him out with Henry. This was partly because I felt he deserved something to do in S22, but also just to shake things up a bit. For the same reason, Tidmouth Sheds isn't really involved. Not because I think it was dumb in the original, just again to spice things up. Another change is the addition of Donald and Douglas, who to me make this story. I loved writing them and their interactions with Henry, which makes it more of a shame they didn't even show up in S22. Me griping aside, I hope you enjoyed this, even if at the time of me posting this, it's long past Christmas.


	5. Apology Impossible

**APOLOGY IMPOSSIBLE**

Since his arrival, Philip the Diesel Boxcab has made a lot of friends on the railway, particularly with the steam engines.

"Goodbye, Thomas! See you later!" Philip called. Thomas whistled in reply and rolled away with Annie and Clarabel. Philip then noticed Percy puffing past.

"Oh, hello, Percy!" Suddenly, he heard a whistle and Duck rolled in.

"Morning, Philip. Are my trucks ready yet?" he asked. Philip grinned eagerly.

"Oh, yes, let me fetch them!" Philip hurriedly reversed away, quickly running back with a goods train.

"Here we are, Duck!" He panted as he came to a stop.

"Phew! These are really heavy trucks, you know, but I shunted them really quickly! I must be so strong, maybe even as strong as you!" Duck rolled his eyes and chuckled as Philip continued chatting to him. On the other side of the yard, a black shape watched the scene with anger. He was so cross that he didn't notice Paxton rolling alongside him.

"Hello, Diesel!" No reply.

"...Diesel?" Diesel's eyes finally snapped to him.

"_What?_" Paxton grimaced.

"Sorry, Diesel, I just wanted to say hello. What's wrong?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong, Paxton," Diesel snarled, "Look over there." Paxton glanced across the yard, where Philip was still talking excitedly to Duck. Paxton raised an eyebrow.

"Uh… I'm not sure what's wrong, Diesel."

"It's so obvious, Paxton; he's a traitor! Always being so _friendly _to not just steam engines, but the _worst_ steam engines…" Diesel growled at Duck, who was now leaving the yard with his trucks.

"Oh. Well, um, does that really matter, Diesel? I talk to Thomas all the time, but you're still my friend, aren't you?" Paxton asked nervously. But Diesel wasn't paying attention to Paxton; the gears were turning in his head.

"If he wants to act like those steam engines, I'll treat him like one…" he muttered before smirking.

"Yes, of course!" Diesel started to laugh as he rolled away. Paxton watched him leave with a sigh of relief.

"Oh, phew! We _are_ still friends!"

* * *

Philip sat in the yard, waiting for his trucks to be loaded before shunting them away. Suddenly, he heard a loud horn and gasped as Diesel rounded a bend and came towards him.

"Diesel, look out!" Philip shouted, but Diesel didn't listen. He bashed straight into a flatbed of crates, all of which fell onto Philip's track. Philip yelped and jerked backwards, causing the drums of oil on Philip's trucks to topple off.

"Philip, what are you doing?" a workman cried in horror, "We just spent ages loading that!" Philip's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

"S-Sorry!" he stammered. Diesel snickered.

"Making mistakes _again_, Philip? No wonder you're such _friends_ with those steam engines; you're just as clumsy as they are!" Philip looked away in shame as Diesel continued to snicker. Diesel looked down; right in front of him on the rail was a drum of oil. He glanced between it and Philip to make sure he wasn't watching. Then, Diesel raced forward, knocking the drum over and splattering oil all over Philip.

"Hey!" Philip cried. Diesel gasped in mock horror.

"Philip! What did you do that for? I was only having a bit of fun with you."

"I-I didn't do anything," Philip spluttered, "that was you! And _you_ should say sorry!" Diesel rolled his eyes.

"Me? Couldn't possibly be. I'm much too careful, unlike clumsy you always getting in the way!" Diesel burst into laughter as he hurried away, leaving Philip to groan.

* * *

It took a long time to clear the mess up, and by the time Philip could shunt the train again, it was very late.

"Hurry up, Philip! You've delayed me enough as it is!" Henry called back, annoyed.

"Sorry, Henry! I'm going as fast as I can!" Philip panted as he shunted the long train, with the drums of oil noticeably missing, behind Henry. Henry rolled his eyes and puffed out of the yard. Philip sighed sadly.

"At least I can have a wash now…" he muttered as he reversed away.

* * *

When he arrived at the washdown, James was already there, getting hosed off.

"Ah, I do love a good wash!" James sighed happily to himself before whistling and rolling away. Philip smiled and trundled forwards, not noticing a familiar shape roll past. Just before Philip was about to stop by the reservoir, he saw Diesel reversing towards him.

"Huh?"

"My turn now!" Diesel snickered as he braked beside the reservoir. Philip spluttered in disbelief.

"No it's not, Diesel! I got here first, _and _I'm actually dirty!" Diesel smirked.

"I'm just as dirty as you are, you just can't see it because of my black paint. So insensitive, Philip, mistaking my paint for oil." Philip gaped as Diesel started to be hosed off.

"W-Wait, you can't do that! You need to go back and say sorry for cutting in line!"

"Just why would I do that? It's not my fault if you're too slow to get here first." Diesel laughed as Philip scowled but could do nothing.

* * *

Philip was eventually washed, and he slowly and sadly made his way back to the shunting yard. He rolled into Wellsworth, where Edward was sitting at the platform with some coaches.

"Hello, Philip!" He then noticed Philip's frown.

"Oh dear, you do look glum. What's the matter?" Philip sadly looked at the ground.

"It's that Diesel," he mumbled. Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Diesel? What's he done now?"

"He won't leave me alone, Edward, and I don't know why! How could someone be so… mean?" Edward sighed.

"That's not an easy question to answer, Philip, I suppose he's just that sort of engine. All the same, if he bothers you again, tell him to stop and stand your ground. If he doesn't, speak to the Fat Controller about it. A few words from him will sort Diesel out." Philip gave a small smile.

"Alright, Edward, I'll give it a try. Thank you!" He honked his horn and started rolling away, Edward giving him an encouraging smile.

* * *

When Philip finally arrived back at the shunting yard, he groaned as he could see Diesel in a crowd of engines. He was about to reverse away when he saw that Diesel and the others were crowding around the Fat Controller.

"Right. This load of rubbish has been stinking up the station for far too long," the Fat Controller said, gesturing to a long line of rubbish trucks on a siding, "Whiff and Scruff haven't had time to come up here and fetch it, so I need someone else to take it to the dump for them. Any volunteers?" The engines present, including Diesel, squirmed as the Fat Controller looked at each of them. Philip saw this and got an idea. He rolled up alongside the crowd and smirked.

"Why not let Diesel do that job, sir? He's _very _careful and never makes mistakes!" The other engines were confused by this comment, but the Fat Controller didn't seem to notice as he turned to Diesel.

"If you could, Diesel, that would be very helpful." Diesel grimaced as the engines' eyes landed on him.

"Oh, I would _love _to, sir, I really would, but… there's a lot of shunting to do at the Dieselworks! Yes, that's right! Lots of shunting, just what I'm built for. I better go and finish it now!" Before anyone could object, Diesel hurried away.

"Wait a minute, Diesel!" the Fat Controller called out, but Diesel had already gone. He sighed.

"Anyone else?" Almost immediately, the other engines started rolling away, all except for Philip, who was left spluttering. The Fat Controller grinned.

"Ah, Philip, I knew I could count on you. Now we won't have to deal with any more complaints from passengers!" The Fat Controller chuckled and walked away before Philip could object. Philip growled in annoyance.

* * *

Reluctantly, Philip backed down onto the trucks and rolled away, trying his best not to be noticed. Soon, Philip approached the Fenlands, where he was surprised to see a bunch of workmen repairing one side of the bridge. He came to a stop as one of the workmen flagged him down.

"Phew, what a pong!" the workman exclaimed, making Philip wince.

"Er, sorry. One side of the bridge is closed for repairs, Philip, so we have to make sure the track is clear before you go on." Philip waited patiently as the workman turned around to make sure no other trains were coming.

"Okay, you're all clear!" Philip honked his horn and continued onward, not noticing the workman holding his nose as he passed with the rubbish trucks. Meanwhile, on the other side of the bridge, Diesel was chuckling darkly to himself as he made his way along.

"Got out of that one… Silly Philip, thinking he could trick me like that. No one tricks ol' Diesel." He was so busy thinking how clever he was that he didn't notice he was approaching a workman waving a yellow flag. The workman waved his arms as Diesel raced past.

"Diesel, stop! The track isn't clear! _Stop!_" But Diesel didn't stop as he didn't hear him, instead continuing onto the bridge. On the other side, Philip could see Diesel coming towards him in the distance towards Philip.

"Oh no, Diesel… What does he want now?" Philip muttered bitterly before honking his horn and slamming on his brakes. Diesel, hearing the horn, was surprised to see Philip. He scowled and braked to a stop, the buffers of the two engines barely touching. Philip opened his eyes and looked up at Diesel.

"Heh heh… hello again," he smiled meekly, feeling very small. Diesel glared down at him, now genuinely annoyed.

"Get out of my way, you silly little boxcab! I haven't time for your nonsense." Philip's eye twitched and his meek smile morphed into a scowl.

"And I haven't time for yours!" he retorted, surprising Diesel, "Why should I get out of _your _way because of your mistake? You didn't stop at the flag!" Diesel looked back, noticing the workman still waving his arms wildly. Diesel gritted his teeth to hide his embarrassment.

"Because I said so!" he snapped, rolling forward and bumping Philip back. Philip gulped, starting to feel scared when he remembered what Edward said earlier.

"I don't care what you say! You need to stop this _and _say you're sorry! You're being very unfair and, quite frankly, not very nice!" Philip had expected this to be what made Diesel apologize, but to his horror, Diesel rolled his eyes.

"Ugh, you really are a steam engine in disguise. Now, get out of my _way!_" Diesel tried bumping Philip again, but this time, Philip was prepared and had his brakes locked on. Diesel was puzzled as he found he couldn't move him.

"Huh?" he exclaimed. Philip smirked.

"That's right! If you want me to move, you'll have to make me!" Diesel growled furiously and tried pushing Philip again, but his wheels merely spun helplessly.

"Why should I apologize to _you?_" Diesel fumed.

"Well, for one thing, you didn't say sorry when you knocked those crates over, or when you splattered me with oil, or when you jumped ahead of me at the washdown, and now, you're blocking the bridge!"

"Er… Philip?" Philip looked back, surprised to see Duck, Paxton, and Henry all on the bridge behind him.

"Wow, look at all these engines!" Paxton cried excitedly, "Are we having a party?" Henry rolled his eyes.

"No, Paxton, we're just being held up by Philip here." Philip glared back.

"It's not me, it's Diesel!" Philip glared up at Diesel.

"So you need to say sorry! ...please?" Diesel glared back down at him.

"Pah, what would you know? You just work in your silly little yard, socializing with all those _steam engines_." Philip's confidence waned at this remark, but Duck spoke up.

"Have some respect, Diesel. Philip is an asset to our railway, whether you realize it or not. Certainly more than you are, in any case. You're the one holding up the bridge." Diesel looked so cross that Philip was afraid he might explode.

"I am not, _Montague_," Diesel spat angrily, "If it weren't for Philip, I would've passed through already, and none of this would have happened! Instead, we're all stuck here since _someone _wouldn't move!" As Diesel and Philip were arguing, Paxton was looking down into the water and starting to grow nervous.

"They're still repairing the bridge, and there are a lot of engines on it!" He gasped. "What if it _collapses?!" _Henry sighed dully.

"Paxton, calm down, the bridge isn't-"

"He's right!" Philip called, his voice rising over Henry's, "We have to get off the bridge _now!_"

"Then _move!_" Diesel snarled. Philip put on a brave face.

"Alright, I will!" he cried. Diesel smirked slyly.

"At last… I knew you'd cave in. Just as weak as the rest of-"

"And if Diesel isn't going to reverse… then I'll make him!" Diesel's eyes widened.

"Wait, what-" He got cut off as Philip surged forward, bashing straight into him.

"Ouch!" Diesel still had his brakes off and rolled backwards. Diesel gnashed his teeth.

"So, you want to play _that_ game, do you? We'll see about that!" With all of his strength, Diesel stopped Philip's advance and actually started pushing him back. Suddenly, the two heard a whistle and were each equally surprised as Duck bumped into the back of Philip's train of rubbish. Duck grimaced at the smell, but continued pushing regardless. Paxton looked conflicted.

"What do I do, what do I do?" he fretted, but didn't have a say in the matter as he felt a bump from behind.

"Whoa!" Henry pushed him into Duck, and the four engines easily pushed Diesel off the bridge. Diesel was horrified as with one final push, they bashed him into a siding. Diesel gaped as the engines reversed and passed him on the main line, each giving him a glare - except for Paxton, who instead looked away in shame.

"Er, sorry, Diesel, I didn't mean to!" he called as he rolled away, but Diesel was too stunned to reply.

* * *

Word of the incident soon spread to the Fat Controller, and he ordered all the engines involved to head to the shunting yard. Philip, Henry, Duck, and Paxton watched as the Fat Controller paced back and forth in front of Diesel.

"Oh dear... Are we going to get in trouble?" Philip said worriedly. Duck smirked at the nervous look on Diesel's face.

"Seems to me that he's the one getting into trouble, as he should."

"Then what are we doing here?" Henry grumbled, "I have things to do and sights to see." Duck shushed him so they could listen as the Fat Controller scolded Diesel.

"Honestly, Diesel, what were you thinking about? That flag was not hard to spot, but since you didn't, the entire main line was delayed!"

"I was... just distracted, sir, but if there's anyone you should blame, it's Philip." Diesel glared back at Philip.

"If he had just done what I said and moved for me, we-"

"He shouldn't have to move just because you didn't pay attention," the Fat Controller interrupted sternly, "Even worse, I've heard from Edward that you've been targeting Philip all day. Care to explain yourself?" Diesel grimaced.

"I... I..."

"Er, if I may say something, sir?" Everyone looked in surprise at Paxton, who smiled sheepishly.

"Since Diesel can't say so himself, uh, I think he didn't like that Philip was talking to steam engines." Diesel's cheeks turned red as the Fat Controller turned back to him.

"Diesel, if this is true, whoever Philip befriends is none of your business. Just because he's a diesel doesn't mean he has to have the same feelings as you do." Diesel spluttered, but the Fat Controller continued.

"I think it best you apologize to Philip. It's the least he deserves." Diesel groaned but nonetheless took a deep breath.

"I'm... sorry, Philip," he mumbled. Philip grinned.

"Apology accepted! Thank you, Diesel!" Diesel didn't look nearly as happy as Philip, but was relieved as he thought he could finally leave. He started rolling away, but the Fat Controller held up his hand.

"Just a moment, Diesel. I think you also ought to apologize to everyone else you've held up as well." Diesel gaped.

"B-But sir! I-"

"_Now_, Diesel." Diesel gritted his teeth.

"And I'm sorry... Paxton, Henry, and... Mo- I mean... Duck." Duck rolled his eyes but didn't comment.

"Right. Now that that's all sorted," the Fat Controller said, "Who's going to be helping Whiff and Scruff on waste collection this week?" He winked at the other engines. Henry and Duck caught on and started reversing away.

"Sorry, sir, would love to help, but we're just too busy!" Duck called. Henry noticed Paxton was still absentmindedly looking around and whistled to get his attention. Paxton smiled sheepishly and hurried to follow them. This only left Diesel and Philip, the latter smirking.

"I would, sir, but there's just too much shunting to do! Isn't that right, Diesel?" Diesel gaped as Philip honked his horn and rolled off, giggling to himself. The Fat Controller chuckled.

"Ah, Diesel! Perfect engine for the job! Off you go now, the rubbish can't stay there forever." Diesel was left spluttering as the Fat Controller turned on his heel and walked away. Diesel growled furiously as he reversed away to collect his trucks, grumbling to himself the whole way.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Probably one of the most contentious Sodor episodes of the season, here's Apology Impossible, written in early March! I feel like James was the wrong character to use in the original episode, so I replaced him with Diesel and gave him a motive. The engines on the bridge are also different, Rebecca and Thomas being swapped for Henry and Duck respectively. This wasn't done just because I dislike either of those characters, but more so since the two fit the new plot better. Plus, it was fun contrasting them with the younger and more immature Paxton and Philip. Speaking of which, Paxton stuck around and got an upgrade in his role which I like since it gives him more to do. From here, we've got one more S22 rewrite to go, one that I've very recently written, and from there we'll see. In the meantime, thank you for reading!


	6. Samson & the Fireworks

**SAMSON & THE FIREWORKS**

* * *

Samson and Bradford, with a line of trucks between them, rolled over the Vicarstown Bridge from the mainland onto Sodor. As usual, Bradford was barking orders.

"Remember, Samson, we're going to the _Blue Mountain Quarry!_ No funny business!" Samson grimaced.

"I know, Bradford, I know. No need to tell me so often."

"I need to, boyo. We must be vigilant and not let a single thing distract us from our mission!" Samson raised an eyebrow.

"We're just collecting stone from the quarry for some station renovation on the mainland-"

"_Dalton_, Samson. Just beyond Barrow-in-Furness. Never forget your destination." Samson sighed dully.

"Yes, Bradford, but anyone could do it. Nothing special."

"Every job we do is important, Samson, no matter what! Now, keep your eyes on the track or we'll cause an _unspeakably horrific accident!_" Samson sighed and looked ahead to the approaching Vicarstown station. At the back of the train, Bradford glared at a seagull that was perching on a truck.

"According to the official railway rulebook, birds _are not allowed on rolling stock!_" The sound of Bradford's loud voice startled the seagull, and it quickly flew away. Samson frowned as he pulled into Vicarstown.

"Didn't know that was a rule…" he muttered. He slowed down as he spotted Rosie shunting some flatbeds with crates on them. "Hello, Rosie!" he called cheerily.

"Oh, hi, Samson," Rosie called back, clearly forcing herself to sound as pleasant as possible. Samson was too intrigued by the crates to notice.

"What have you got there, Rosie?" he asked as he rolled alongside.

"Oh. These are just the fireworks for the Earl's annual firework display tonight at the castle." Samson's face paled.

"Did you say f-fireworks? T-Tonight?" Rosie raised an eyebrow.

"Yes…? It's for Bonfire Night. Is something wrong, Samson?" she asked. Samson smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, no, no, nothing's the matter, Rosie! Just a few very loud bangs, what's not to love?" Rosie, now more suspicious than ever, was about to reply when Bradford, who was starting to sense that Samson was uncomfortable, cut her off.

"Enough nattering, Samson, we're running _thirty-two_ seconds late!" the brake van shouted, "We'll have to hurry as fast as we can if we're going to make up for all that wasted time! As long as it's under the speed limit, of course." Samson looked nervously at the crates Rosie was shunting.

"B-But, Bradford, the-"

"They can't hurt you from inside those crates, which, by the way, better be properly secured." Bradford glared at Rosie, who rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Bradford. Perfectly secure."

"Very well. Now, Samson, let's go, move it, move it!" Samson sped up and hurried out of the station, leaving a baffled Rosie behind.

* * *

As Samson and Bradford made their way to the Blue Mountain Quarry, a thick fog rolled in over the island. Samson soon found it difficult to see where he was going.

"Er, Bradford? Maybe, just as a suggestion, we should turn around and head home?" he asked meekly.

"Out of the question, Samson. Fog may be dangerous, as outlined in the official railway safety guideline manual, but if we keep our wits about us, and _don't get lost_, we will be just fine." Samson scoffed.

"I know my way to the quarry, Bradford. I just… don't want to stay too long, that's all." Bradford's perpetually stern expression softened.

"I know you don't want to see those fireworks, but if we keep to schedule, we'll be long gone before any of them make a sound. Rest assured, boyo, there are no loud noises at the quarry." Samson smiled nervously.

"Right. Thank you, Bradford." Samson, with more of his usual confidence, continued onward to the quarry.

* * *

When he arrived, Rusty and Luke were cautiously shunting trucks into sidings. Samson whistled as he came to a halt and waited patiently for the stone to be loaded into his trucks.

"Hello, everyone. Happy to see you all again." Rusty and Luke shared a look. Rusty cleared their throat.

"Erm, it's just us, Samson."

"Oh. I was, uh, hoping there'd be more of you in the fog. Never mind, two is better than none. At least some of you will be able to-" A loud, sudden explosion interrupted Samson as the sound echoed around the quarry. Samson gasped in horror.

"W-What was that?!"

"Oh, that? We're just blasting at the quarry today," Rusty explained. Bradford narrowed his eyes at the little diesel.

"Blasting? In the fog? It's not my jurisdiction, but-"

"We're always very careful," Rusty put in, "We set up the dynamite before the fog rolled in, so there's no chance of an accidental rockslide." Samson's eyes widened.

"_D-Dynamite?!_" Samson started to panic as the rocks tumbled into his trucks. He whistled and started hurrying away, screaming.

"You promised there weren't any loud noises, Bradford! You promised!" he wailed.

"I didn't know these devious little engines were such rule breakers!" Bradford called back as Samson dragged him out of sight. Luke raised an eyebrow at Rusty.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the rest of the railway, the fog was causing problems for the other engines, as they could hardly see an inch in front of them. Thomas squinted into the fog as he rolled into Knapford station with his branch line train. However, the fog was so thick that he didn't see that his signal on the gantry above was red. Suddenly, Thomas heard a loud whistle - ahead was Douglas, coming towards him with his own train.

"Watch out, Thomas!" Douglas cried. Thomas slammed on his brakes on, coming to a stop just before the points. Thomas opened his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Donald!" he called, not being able to see the number on the tender and making a guess, "I didn't see the red signal!" Douglas rolled his eyes.

"_Douglas_, laddie. Number ten. Just make sure ye're looking where ye're-" Before he could finish, he gaped as puffing towards him was a light-engine Emily. Douglas and Emily each slammed on their brakes, but couldn't stop before lightly bumping into each other.

"Where on earth did ye spring from, lass?" Emily smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, Douglas. Didn't see where I was and ended up here." Douglas glared back at Thomas.

"See, the lass gets my name right!"

"Look out!" exclaimed a voice. Everyone watched in horror as Rebecca appeared from the fog, desperately trying to brake but not succeeding. She banged into the back of Emily, who bashed into Douglas. Thomas winced at the sound of the impacts.

"Oops… Sorry!" Rebecca called as everyone looked at her.

* * *

The situation with the fog was becoming so bad that the Fat Controller called a meeting in the shunting yard.

"Now, it's becoming increasingly apparent that something has to be done about this fog. We've had some very close calls, and I'd rather not have any accidents today. So, to help us out, I've enlisted the help of an old friend." He gestured to beside him, and out of the fog stepped an old man in a brown coat and cap. Thomas gasped excitedly.

"Cyril!" Most of the engines in the crowd looked at Thomas in confusion, as they'd never heard of him. Cyril the Fogman waved to Thomas before pulling out a strange-looking device from behind his back.

"This is a fog detonator. We'll be using these to warn you if you're coming up to a signal, or some other obstruction." Cyril placed a detonator on the track in front of Philip.

"Now, I need one of you to demonstrate." The engines glanced at Philip, who looked nervously down at the detonator.

"M-Me? Why me?"

"Because you're in front of it, Philip," Gordon retorted dully.

"Go on, Philip, it won't hurt! It just makes your axles tingle!" Thomas said encouragingly. Philip gulped and cautiously rolled forward until he hit the detonator, which went off. Philip yelped and reversed.

"So when any of you hear a bang, slow down and look out, because there's a signal ahead…" Cyril ominously stepped back into the fog, obscured from sight. The Fat Controller scratched the back of his head.

"Er… thank you, Cyril. Now, you heard what he said. Be careful out there." The engines whistled and started to return to work.

* * *

Despite some of the engines' skepticism, Cyril's detonators soon proved to be as useful as ever. There were no longer any close calls on the railway, especially on the two big stations on each end of the line. However, not everyone could come to the meeting, which included Samson and Bradford, who were on their way home from the quarry. Samson had finally calmed down by now and felt rather silly.

"Oh, those two are going to tell everyone now, and I'll never hear the end of it…" he mumbled sadly.

"Never mind, lad. That says more about them than it does about you. Let's just take this stone to Dalton, and we can head home, far away from any loud noises." Samson smiled weakly.

"Thanks, Bradford." However, Samson's peace did not last for long, As he approached a junction, Samson rolled over one of Cyril's detonators.

"What was that?!" he cried in horror, "Was that a firework?!"

"It can't be, it's two hours and forty-one minutes too early for the display to start," Bradford mused, "It must be a-" Bradford was cut off as Samson dragged him and the rest of the train of stone onward, screaming again. As Samson sped up, he rolled over more detonators, further terrifying him.

"Fireworks, fireworks! Get away!" He was so scared that he didn't notice he had passed a red signal and raced right through a junction, just barely avoiding hitting Rebecca and one of her expresses.

"Watch out!" Rebecca exclaimed as Samson hurried past, too frightened to reply. Rebecca frowned. "Is _that _the Samson everyone told me about?" Bradford was trying his best to brake, but for once, it wouldn't hold against Samson stubbornly pressing forwards.

"They're not fireworks, Samson!" Bradford called, "They're fog detonators!"

"Whether they're fireworks or not, though they probably are, I don't want them near me!" Samson wailed.

"Get a grip, Samson, you've overrun at least two red signals! That's two strikes! One more and…" Bradford sighed as Samson passed another red signal. "...he's not listening." Without even realizing it, Samson was diverted onto another line, on which Toby was taking on water before heading home. Suddenly, Toby felt a bump from behind.

"Samson?! What are you doing?" Toby cried as Samson began pushing him along. Toby winced as Samson, still wailing, sped up in an attempt to get away from the "fireworks." "Samson, slow down! I'm not used to going this fast!" Samson, of course, didn't listen; he just became even more scared as he heard more detonators go off, though this time it was Toby that was setting them off.

"Help, help! I don't like fireworks!" Samson exclaimed in terror. Toby raised an eyebrow and he scanned the sky.

"Fireworks? Samson, what are you going on about?" For the first time, Samson noticed there was another engine in front of him.

"Toby? When did you get here?" Before Toby could reply, Samson went past another junction. Toby continued down the line, much to his relief, while Samson was quickly switched onto a siding. Samson hit the buffers with a dull thud, and Bradford bumped into the back of the trucks. Toby watched the scene with bemusement as he puffed on.

"Some engines…" he muttered. Samson nervously looked around for any signs of fireworks.

"Sorry, Bradford," he sighed, finally getting his bearings, "Don't know where we are now. Are we still on Sodor?"

"I would assume so, given you just took that Sudrian tram engine on a joyride, not to mention disrupt the entire railway network," Bradford retorted. Samson grimaced.

"Oh. Didn't mean to, Bradford. I just… really don't like fireworks… They're so loud…"

"But those _weren't _fireworks! I've been trying to tell you, they're _fog detonators!_" Samson gasped.

"Fog detonators?" Bradford realized what he had just done and groaned.

"Samson, they're harmless-"

"Those were just as loud, if not louder, than fireworks!" Samson cut in frantically, "And they're everywhere! I-I'm not moving another inch!" Bradford sighed dully.

"Not like we can anyway. Not only are we stranded in the middle of nowhere, but according to the official railway rulebook, we can't move until the fog's lifted." Samson raised an eyebrow.

"Are all those rules really in the rulebook, Bradford?"

"Don't question the book, boyo."

* * *

Unfortunately for Samson and Bradford, the fog stuck around for the entire rest of the day. The other engines passed the siding the two were stuck in with their own trains, though the fog was so thick neither could tell who any of them were. Samson's driver, who was rather bored by now, took out a harmonica and started playing it. However, he didn't get very far before Bradford sternly cleared his throat.

"Oh, er, sorry," the driver said sheepishly and put the harmonica away.

"It's getting dark… Shouldn't we ask for directions, Bradford?" Samson asked meekly.

"Glad to see you've learned from your first time here," Bradford replied wryly, "But don't you even think about it. We mustn't delay them any more than we've already."

"Oh… but the fog hasn't lifted. How are we supposed to get home?" Bradford sighed.

"I don't know, boyo. We might be stuck out here all night…" Just then, in the distance, Bradford could hear the sound of fireworks going off. Samson heard it too and started to panic again.

"W-What was that?" Bradford looked up; high in the sky above, there were fireworks of a variety of colours.

"Fireworks!" Bradford grinned. Samson gasped.

"Fireworks _and _detonators?!" Samson shut his eyes tightly. "Don't want to look! Make them go away!" Despite this empty plea, the fireworks continued to go off. Samson nervously opened an eye.

"See, Samson? Whether they're in crates or up in the sky, fireworks aren't scary at all. In fact, I'd say they're beautiful. Lovely colours and that," Bradford said, keenly watching the firework display. Samson cautiously opened his other eye.

"Well… I suppose from far away, they are a… bit pretty."

"And not just pretty, my lad, useful too!" Bradford continued, "Those must be coming from Ulfstead Castle! If we follow the fireworks, we can make our way up to the castle, and we can regroup! Then, we can finally deliver this stone to Dalton and go home." Samson was nervous at this idea.

"Bradford, are you sure? I don't think _that's _a rule in the rulebook." Bradford smirked.

"Maybe not, boyo, but desperate times call for desperate measures." Samson gulped, nervously glancing at the faraway fireworks.

"Okay, but… I don't want to get _too _close."

"Of course not, Samson, but we must get moving if we're going to get to Dalton before dawn. Now, quickly now! Move it, move it, follow those whizzes and bangs!" Samson whistled and reversed out of the siding and onto the main line.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Samson was not too happy about being forced to go near the fireworks. The closer he got to the castle, the louder they became. Samson winced as the bangs echoed all around him.

"Ooh… I don't like this…"

"You're doing well, lad! Keep going! We're almost there!" Bradford called encouragingly. Samson shut his eyes as they approached the castle gates. The train whooshed over the drawbridge and into the castle, where a crowd of engines had gathered to watch the firework display.

"Samson? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be home by now?" Rosie asked curiously. Samson opened his eyes and smiled sheepishly as the engines gazed at him.

"Oh, uh… Just a visit, that's all. Didn't get lost, not at all." Rosie rolled her eyes.

"Of course not. What do you think of fireworks now, Samson?" Samson nervously looked up at the fireworks going off above him, and to his own surprise, found himself enjoying the sight of them.

"Well, er, they're not so bad after all, Rosie. Neither are fog detonators, come to think of it. Both are very useful in their own way." As Samson was talking, Cyril, who had been in the crowd of people watching the fireworks, snuck through the crowd and placed a detonator on the track in front of Rosie. He gestured to Rosie, who smirked and rolled forward, setting the detonator off. Samson jumped in fright.

"I do wish they weren't so loud, though…" Everyone laughed until Bradford sternly cleared his throat.

"Alright, Samson, we've had our fun, but we must be heading back to the mainland now." Normally, Samson would've agreed in a heartbeat, but as he looked up at the fireworks, he couldn't help but feel sad that he was leaving.

"Can we stay just for a little while, Bradford? I want to see if one of the fireworks will have my colour!" Bradford reluctantly sighed.

"Alright, Samson, just this once. We may be embarrassingly late with our mission, but facing your fears nonetheless makes you a really useful engine, and you deserve some sort of reward." Samson grinned proudly as he, along with the other engines, watched the fireworks with increasing delight, despite the occasional loud "bang" still startling him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Was supposed to post this yesterday, but accidentally forgot, but hey, better late than never! Not a lot of changes this time around, mainly just swapping some roles around and adjusting the writing. Writing Samson and Bradford was a ton of fun and great practice for the future. Speaking of the future, this is the last rewrite of the batch that I've written before publishing them. Doesn't mean I'm going to stop necessarily (though I'm not sure what's left of Season 22 that isn't either too good that I don't to touch it or something I'd rather just not go near), but there will be a bit of a break as I return my focus to original stories. In the meantime, though, hopefully these six will tide you over. Thank you for reading these, and check out my original stories if you want!


	7. Signals Crossed

**SIGNALS CROSSED**

* * *

Toby the Tram Engine had settled in well on the Island of Sodor. The scenery of the branch line reminded him of his old tramway, and the people in the villages always enjoyed seeing him at the stations. Even Thomas warmed up to him soon enough, and it seemed to Toby that nothing could be wrong with his new home. However, as he and Henrietta drew nearer and nearer to the junction, his speed continued to decrease. Henrietta sighed.

"Slowing down again, Toby?" Toby grimaced.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered. Henrietta smirked.

"You can't hide it from me, Toby. What's the matter? Is it that policeman? He can't harm us, you know, though I'd like to see him try."

"It's not him," Toby interjected before sighing.

"Have you ever seen such a big station as the junction, Henrietta?" Henrietta pondered the question.

"No, can't say that I have. Why? Is that what's bothering you?"

"...yes," Toby admitted after a moment of silence, "It's just so… disorienting. I've never seen so many engines in one place before. And the signals! Back on the tramway, there was only one light to keep track of. Here, how can anyone figure out which signal is theirs?"

"I'm sure it gets easier the more you do it," comforted Henrietta. Toby rolled his eyes.

"Easy for you to say. You never have to worry about signals."

"Maybe, but I am worrying about you. If we don't speed up, we'll be late and the Fat Controller will be cross. You don't want that, do you?" Toby chuckled.

"You're starting to sound like that Hannah you always talk about."

"Don't you _dare_ compare me to her!" Henrietta laughed before continuing.

"All I'm saying is we wouldn't want our reputation to take a hit already. This is our home now, we have to be punctual." Toby sighed.

"I know, I know… It's just…"

"I know it's hard, Toby, but there's nothing you can't do. Remember that." That made Toby smile, and he quickly sped up to make up for lost time. Despite this burst in confidence, he nonetheless dreaded the thought of coming across the junction again.

* * *

As Toby pulled up to the junction, he stopped at a set of points, surrounded by many others. Above loomed an intimidating gantry with a sea of red and green lights. At the nearby station, Edward departed with a goods train, whistling cheerfully to Toby as he puffed past. Toby didn't reply, his earlier confidence evaporating.

"Oh dear… Do you see what I mean now, Henrietta? How am I supposed to get across without being smashed to smithereens?"

"Just wait for your signal to turn green, then you can make it safely to the station," Henrietta replied matter-of-factly. Toby grunted.

"You make it sound so easy." Toby glanced up at the array of signals and squinted as one of them dropped. He looked around cautiously and, not seeing anyone approaching, started rolling forward, only to be cut off by a whistle. Toby slammed on his brakes as Thomas raced past with Annie and Clarabel.

"Wait your turn, Toby!" Thomas called back, annoyed. Henrietta jolted from stopping so suddenly.

"That could've gone smoother," she remarked. She could feel Toby glaring at her from in front and chuckled.

"Never mind, perhaps it's the next one." Toby sighed and reversed back to where he was and waited. Two more signals dropped, making Toby frown.

"One of those _must _be mine, surely." He rang his bell and trundled forwards again when he heard a loud, shrill whistle. Toby gasped and braked frantically as Gordon thundered past, hissing steam at him.

"Watch out, you silly little tram, and wait for your signal!" Before Toby could blurt out an apology, Gordon had already braked at the platform in the station. Toby winced.

"Oh, I'll never get it…"

"Gordon's a bossy boiler anyway," Henrietta replied, trying to cheer him up, "Who needs _his _approval?"

"You're right, but…" Toby trailed off and looked up at the signal gantry again, then around the junction. Not an engine was in sight, aside from Gordon letting off passengers in the station. Toby narrowed his eyes and started rolling forward. Henrietta felt the jolt as she was dragged forward.

"T-Toby?! What are you doing?!"

"I'm not sitting there all day," Toby huffed, "I have to cross this dratted junction sooner or later." Henrietta, who had started to get rather bored herself, subsided. Toby sped up as he crossed several points. He was about halfway through when he heard the last thing he wanted to hear.

"Henry!" he gasped in fear. Down the line, a large green engine bucketed along the track. Henry smirked to himself as he raced through the station, catching Gordon's jealous glare.

"Bang on time, bang on time…" he repeated to himself to keep his momentum going. Suddenly, Henry could see what he thought to be a shed moving along the rails in front of him. Then, he heard the faint yet frantic ringing of a bell.

"Toby?!" Toby, looking just as terrified as Henry, desperately tried to speed up, but it seemed to do little as Henry, despite braking as hard as he could, was still coming towards him fast. Toby and Henrietta slammed their eyes shut, preparing for the worst. However, Toby barely managed to clear the points before Henry whooshed past. Henry's horror quickly morphed into fury.

"Watch where you're going, Toby!" he shouted. Toby was too shaken to reply. He was trembling dreadfully as he came to a jerky stop at the platform.

"Toby…" Henrietta panted, feeling lightheaded, "...we're never doing that again." Toby silently agreed. Gordon, who had seen everything, stared at Toby agape.

"Hello, Toby!" Percy called cheerfully, rolling into the station to collect Gordon's coaches, "How are you?" But Toby didn't reply as the workmen on the platform climbed aboard Henrietta. Percy looked on worriedly.

"Toby?"

"Leave him be, Percy," Gordon sniffed, "He might be a bad influence on you." Percy wasn't sure what this meant, but before he could ask, Gordon whistled and rolled away, briefly glaring at Toby.

"Reckless tram engine…" Gordon muttered to himself. Percy frowned and reversed away with the express coaches. At the platform, Toby was looking out of the station and to the other junction. The guard had blown his whistle, but Toby had hardly heard it.

"Toby? We have to go, Toby," Henrietta called gently. Toby grimaced.

"Do… we have to, Henrietta?"

"Yes, if we want to get these workers to the quarry. We can't stay here all day, can we?" Toby looked from back at Henrietta to the large junction that lay ahead of him. He sighed in defeat and looked down at his buffers.

"I… I can't… I'm sorry, Henrietta…" Henrietta's eyes widened.

"What? But-" She was cut off by a whistle. Toby and Henrietta glanced over as Percy rolled alongside, having dropped off the coaches in the yard.

"Are you alright, Toby?" he asked. Toby hesitated before sighing.

"No…"

"He's scared of Knapford Junction," Henrietta put in. Toby spluttered.

"Henrietta!"

"Well, he has to know eventually."

"You didn't have to say it so casually!"

"How else am I supposed to say it?" Percy glanced between engine and coach, feeling like a third wheel.

"Um, excuse me?" he interrupted meekly. The two looked to Percy.

"Is it the signals?"

"Yes… There's just so many of them! So many tracks, so many engines… It gets me in such a flurry. I've never seen such a large junction before." Toby stopped his rambling and glared suspiciously at Percy.

"Wait, how did you know?"

"Because I felt the same when I first arrived." Toby raised an eyebrow.

"You did?"

"Oh, yes! We didn't have signals back at the workshop, and seeing so many at once made me dizzy! But luckily for me, Edward was there to teach me everything." Toby looked around the station; Edward was nowhere to be seen.

"I don't think that'll work for me," he muttered glumly. Percy smiled brightly.

"Never mind, Toby! I still remember what he told me! The only signal you need to watch is the one directly above your line! 'Everything else will take care of itself,' he said. From then on, I wasn't scared anymore!" Toby was stunned.

"Just one? But… No, it can't be that easy. What about all those points?"

"The path is set for you! All you have to do is move forward, and you'll be out of the junction in no time!" Percy grinned. Toby glanced between Percy and the junction and took a deep breath.

"Right. Thank you, Percy. I'll be on my way now." He rang his bell and cautiously moved forward to the signal gantry. Percy smiled and reversed back to the yard.

* * *

Toby braked just below the signal gantry, immediately looking to the red signal directly above his line.

"See? This isn't so hard, is it? I told you," Henrietta smirked. Toby rolled his eyes and kept watching. However, to his surprise, the signal stayed red.

"A signal's supposed to turn green, isn't it?" Henrietta raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, of course it is. You mean it hasn't?" Toby glanced back to the signal, which was still red.

"No…"

"Maybe there's been a delay down the line. You know how those big engines can be," Henrietta quipped. Toby chuckled and waited. He waited and waited some more, but the signal remained red. Soon, the workmen were growing restless.

"Why have we stopped?"

"What's the holdup?"

"We're going to be late!" To Toby's dismay, another voice joined the chorus of complaints.

"Have you broken down, Toby?" sneered James as he pulled up behind him, "That didn't take long." Toby glared back.

"I've _not _broken down, I'm waiting for my-"

"This railway isn't like your _tramway_, Toby," James continued haughtily, blatantly ignoring him, "It's not a free-for-all. We have _rules_ and _regulations _here, such as something called a schedule." Toby grit his teeth, but Henrietta spoke first.

"We know what a schedule is, James," she retorted, trying not to lose her patience, "But Toby's signal is red." James rolled his eyes.

"Everyone knows Toby doesn't know his signals. He probably thinks green is for stop!" James chuckled at his own remark but stopped at the scowl Henrietta was giving him.

"Fine. If you won't move, I'll _make_ you move. I'm not waiting around for you." James whistled and bashed into the back of Henrietta, who bumped into Toby. Toby slammed his brakes on, just avoiding a collision with a passing Thomas.

"Learn your signals, Toby!" Thomas called back, more annoyed than before. Toby glared.

"I _have _learned them, a long time ago in fact, and it's _red_."

"I'm flattered you like my color so much, little Toby, but you can't start seeing it everywhere," James smirked.  
"Why you-" As James, Toby and Henrietta argued, the Fat Controller was inside his office sipping a hot cup of tea. From his desk, he could hear the commotion outside.

"What on earth is going on out there?" he muttered to himself. He stood up and walked through the door onto the platform, where he could see James and his train behind Toby and Henrietta. The Fat Controller sighed.

"Oh, Toby…" He walked over to the trio, who hadn't noticed him arriving.

"SILENCE!" The three stopped at once.

"Thank you. Now, what is the meaning of this?" Toby was about to speak but James cut him off.

"It's this dirty object, sir. I haven't the faintest idea why you thought bringing him here was a good idea. He doesn't even know his signals, sir! The poor old thing thinks the signal is still red!"

"It _is!_" Toby growled. The Fat Controller held his hand up.

"Now, Toby, I don't agree on James' attitude, but he does have a point. That signal can't _still _be red, and-" As he was talking, one of his assistants had looked up at the signal and started whispering into the Fat Controller's ear. The Fat Controller stopped and looked up.

"...it...is red?" Henrietta smirked at James, who gaped in shock.

"B-But-"

"The signal must be broken; the gantries here have been needing maintenance anyhow." The Fat Controller turned to Toby with a broad smile.

"I'm proud of you, Toby, for sticking to your instincts and not passing through a red signal." Toby grinned excitedly.

"Thank you, sir!"

"I know this junction isn't quite like your old tramway and you had to…" He cleared his throat tactfully.

"..._adjust_, but I'd say you know your signals better than some engines here do!" James spluttered indignantly at this. The Fat Controller ignored him and continued.

"How would you like to take the workers here to the junction so the signals can be maintained?" Toby's eyes widened; he was proud of himself for standing his ground, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to come to the junction more often than ever.

"Well, sir, I…" He stopped and looked back at Henrietta, who gave him an encouraging smile.

"I'd be honored, sir."

"Excellent! You can get started right now as soon as you take these workmen to the quarry." Toby grinned.

"Yes, sir!"

Soon, workmen had been called to help flag the engines through the junction while the signals were being repaired. Toby rang his bell and trundled through the junction, finally feeling at ease. Henrietta gave a smug look to James, who seethed furiously. Toby's journeys to the junction became more frequent as maintenance trains were added, but he didn't mind; his fear had gone. Instead, it had been replaced with annoyance as whenever he arrived, James, still bitter about the signal incident, would be very rude. That, however, is another story…

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hello! Yes, it has been practically two months since I've lasted posted anything and I'm sorry. Wasn't an intentional break, just kinda had a rut. Luckily for me, I struck inspiration with this rewrite. I didn't think I was gonna be doing rewrites for a while after the S22 ones (before anyone asks, I'm not sure if I'll do more of those, guess it depends), but here we are. As one could probably pick on rather quickly, I shifted the story's place in the timeline from Season 18 to Season 1 between _Thomas in Trouble _and _Dirty Objects_. Why? I think it makes a lot more sense that way with the premise and Toby's characterization. Speaking of Toby, I feel like I got his and Henrietta's dynamic here, putting them on a bit more of equal footing than in the episode proper, though Toby obviously does still need reassurance. Plus, it leading into _Dirty Objects _was something I didn't plan at first but loved the idea so I added it in at the end. However, as much fun as this was, rewrites that change a story's time period aren't going to be that common. As for what the next rewrite will be... no idea, it's kind've a coin toss at this point. I have a bunch of ideas, but we'll see. In the meantime, look out for an original story I've got cooking up!


	8. Gordon Gets the Giggles

**GORDON GETS THE GIGGLES**

* * *

One morning, Gordon the Big Engine was resting in Tidmouth Sheds, watching smugly as the other engines were leaving for work. James looked at him incredulously.

"Why are you just lounging around, Gordon?"

"I'm not 'lounging around', little James," Gordon smirked, "I am waiting for the Fat Controller. He said he has a special job for me. Of course, you wouldn't understand - move along now, I'm sure there's a fine slow goods waiting for you." James growled in fury and rolled onto the turntable to be turned. Gordon watched eagerly as the familiar sight of the Fat Controller's car pulled up to the sheds. The Fat Controller climbed out.

"Ah, Gordon. You will be having special passengers on your express today. The railway inspectors have come for their routine inspection; I have a meeting with the Duke and Duchess, so I will not be accompanying them on your train. Therefore, I expect peak performance from you." Gordon grinned proudly.

"Of course, sir! I've pulled them before without any issues at all. Someone on this railway has to show how it's done."

"Excellent. Carry on then, Gordon." The Fat Controller got back into his car and drove away. Gordon smirked to himself as he rolled out of his berth and onto the turntable.

* * *

Gordon puffed importantly into the big station, stopping alongside Spencer, who was waiting at the other platform with his two coaches. Gordon's smirk slid off his face upon seeing him.

"What are you doing here, Spencer?" Spencer snorted.

"Bringing the Duke and Duchess to their meeting, of course. And what are you so happy about?" Gordon's smirk returned.

"_I'm _taking the railway inspectors today; the Fat Controller specially chose me. An important engine for an important job. Now, if only I could have _my coaches_…" Gordon glared at the shunting yard, where Charlie was testing out one of his routines on Philip and Ryan.

"So I heard Thomas wants to try going around the world! He got lost barely venturing off Sodor, and he thinks he's gonna travel the globe? Has he ever _heard _of broad gauge?" Philip and Ryan burst into laughter, making Charlie grin confidently.

"Thank you, thank you-" He got cut off by the stern clearing of a throat. Charlie looked over and noticed Gordon glaring at him.

"My _coaches_, Charlie…" Charlie chuckled.

"Alright, alright, I'll get around to it, Big G, don't worry about it. You don't mind if I call you that, right? Just thought of it myself." Gordon gritted his teeth; Spencer wisely declined to comment. Charlie smirked.

"Glad you like it! Express coaches coming up!" Charlie started reversing to fetch the coaches.

"Sorry, you two, duty calls. Come back soon, though!" Philip and Ryan groaned in disappointment but nonetheless went back to work. Gordon grunted.

"Silly little engines… They'll laugh at anything." Spencer murmured in agreement.

* * *

It wasn't long before Charlie pushed the rake of express coaches behind Gordon and reversed back to the yard to do more shunting. Passengers started climbing aboard the express, but Gordon was more interested in the inspectors. At last, he could see them conversing with the Fat Controller.

"Hmm, yes, well, let's hope _this _inspection goes over better than the last one," an inspector mused. The Fat Controller smiled sheepishly.

"Of course, gentlemen, but you needn't worry. Gordon's a reliable engine." Gordon grinned broadly at that. Spencer snorted.

"If they want reliable, they should've simply loaned me instead." Gordon glared, about to retort when Charlie puffed in, shunting some trucks into the station.

"Oh, family squabbles! Someone a bit jealous they're not getting all the attention, wedge head?" Spencer blushed bright red but became even more furious when he noticed Gordon snickering.

"Seems like you'll laugh at anything too," Spencer huffed, "You're just as silly as those little engines; unworthy of taking any important passengers, let alone inspectors. You'd never see me giggling away. What would the Duke and Duchess say?" Gordon spluttered, but before he could answer, the guard's whistle blew. Gordon cleared his throat and looked down at his buffers as he departed, leaving Spencer to glare at Charlie. Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

* * *

Gordon made his way up the main line, mulling over what Spencer had said.

"I'll show that Spencer," he grumbled, "Comparing me to those little engines, comparing me to… _Charlie! _Pah! I'm perfectly capable of being serious. I'm serious all the time!" He surged forward, feeling very confident in his assertion. Up ahead at the coal hopper, Percy was stopping to take on coal. He was unaware that Diesel was behind him, smirking wickedly. Diesel rushed forward, giving Percy a big bump.

"Ouch!" Percy exclaimed before hearing Diesel's familiar laugh and scowling.

"Diesel…"

"You don't need that silly coal," Diesel sneered, "Replace your firebox with an oil-burner and you'll- Ow! Huh?" Diesel looked up, gulping as the coal that was meant to pour into Percy's bunker was coming straight for his roof.

"Uh oh." Gordon slowed down and watched as coal poured down all over Diesel, the pieces of coal smacking him on his roof, causing him to exclaim "Ouch!" repeatedly. The coal had spilled onto Gordon's track, but luckily for him, he had slowed down enough that he could stop easily. Gordon braked as he entered the cloud of coal dust, which slowly dissipated, revealing a very worse for wear Diesel. Percy couldn't help but giggle.

"Were you saying something, Diesel?" Diesel just groaned, but his face paled as out from Gordon's express coaches stepped two very unimpressed inspectors.

"Well, well, well, what's all this then?" one asked, "Disrupting engines' fuel supply _and _causing an emergency stop. Sir Topham will hear of this behavior." The other inspector nodded, writing something in his notes. Diesel squirmed.

"Sorry, sirs," he mumbled, only to yelp as one last piece of coal smacked him on the roof. Gordon started to laugh, but quickly stopped himself when he noticed the inspectors turning around to look at him. Percy raised an eyebrow at him.

"Gordon? Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, little Percy," Gordon replied, though his red cheeks and forced voice said otherwise.

"That's good," the inspector said in an irritated voice, "because the inspection has only just started." Gordon smiled sheepishly as the inspectors climbed back aboard. Soon, the coal mess was cleared, though Diesel's roof was still dented and paint still smudged. That wasn't Gordon's concern, however, as he whistled and rolled away, finally letting out some of his held back laughter. Diesel snorted.

* * *

As Gordon continued on his journey, his laughter quickly died, replaced by a gasp of horror.

"No, Spencer _can't _be right! I'm a serious engine, and this is a serious job!" Gordon assumed a determined expression.

"Right. No more silliness. The Fat Controller is depending on me." He didn't get very far, however, when he heard a loud baaing sound. Gordon gasped; up on the line ahead was a sheep, standing stubbornly on the track. Next to it was Trevor the Traction Engine, trying his best to guide it away.

"A sheep? Oh the indignity…" Gordon groaned as he came to a stop, "I'm an express! I can't keep stopping and starting like this!" Trevor winced as the sheep baaed at him.

"Sorry, Gordon. This sheep must've broken away from its pen. I've been trying to get back it there all morning."

"So you're a sheepdog now?" Gordon was about to laugh but quickly stopped himself. Trevor raised an eyebrow.

"Er, is something wrong, Gordon?" Luckily for Gordon, he didn't have the chance to reply as two horns cut him off. Max and Monty drove up, each grinning mischievously.

"Oh, look what we have 'ere! A little sheepie!" Max smirked, advancing on the sheep threateningly. The sheep cowered and stepped back. Trevor glared.

"Stop that! Sheep may seem docile, but they can do quite a bit of damage if threatened."

"Oh, be quiet, old-timer," snapped Monty, "You're as soft as this sheep. We're just having some fun." As Trevor and the dump trucks argued, the inspectors in the express poked their heads out of their windows.

"What's going on now?" an inspector grumbled, "We're going to be very late for the rest of our inspection if this keeps up." Gordon grimaced but suddenly turned his attention back as he heard Max cry out in surprise.

"Whoa! Stay back!" Max cried, reversing as quickly as he could. Charging at him was the sheep, which looked like it was ready to kick him. Max yelped.

"Every dump truck for himself!" he wailed and raced away. The sheep turned its head to Monty and he immediately ran off too, both of them screaming. The inspector shook his head.

"Silly things. Lucky for them we're not road inspectors." The other inspector nodded, writing more in his notes. Gordon forced himself not to laugh, his cheeks turning bright red again. Trevor frowned in concern.

"Gordon?"

"It's just my funnel, there must be something lodged in it," Gordon quickly replied, clearly still holding back laughter. Trevor was about to say something when he noticed the sheep had gone.

"Oh bother, where did it go? I'll have to chase after it, I suppose. Take care, Gordon; perhaps you should go to the Steamworks to have your funnel looked over," Trevor suggested, chuffering off the tracks and into the field beside the line. Gordon whistled and started rolling away.

"Yes, yes, of course, thank you, Trevor!" he called back quickly before letting out his contained laughs. Trevor raised an eyebrow as Gordon puffed into the distance, laughing away.

* * *

Gordon continued laughing as the train made its way up the main line, before finally growling to himself.

"Get a grip, Gordon, that wasn't even that funny! Just… that silly dump truck's face!" Gordon started laughing again, not even realizing he was pulling into Crovan's Gate. Sir Handel, who was waiting at the platform with the narrow gauge connection, stared at him in bewilderment.

"...Gordon?" Gordon's laughter died down as the inspectors stepped onto the platform to survey the station. One of the inspectors checked their golden watch.

"Hmm. Ten minutes late," he grunted. The other inspector murmured in agreement, writing still more on his clipboard. Gordon gulped.

"No… no! I have to pull myself together, or those inspectors might write me up! I'll get my express taken away, and that _Spencer _will never let me hear the end of it!"

"You do know I'm right here, right?" Sir Handel snapped, tired of being ignored. Gordon breathed in deeply and sighed.

"Just. Don't. Laugh. No matter what happens," he affirmed to himself. The inspectors climbed back aboard the coaches, along with Sir Handel's passengers, and Gordon rolled away. Sir Handel blinked as the express train disappeared into the distance.

"...well, he's lost it."

* * *

Gordon approached Vicarstown, trying his best to keep his eyes locked on the tracks, should he see something that could trigger a laughing fit.

"Nearly over… Nearly over…" Gordon repeated to himself. Suddenly, he heard a whistle; he looked up and saw Rebecca, rolling through the junction towards the station. Gordon gave a small smile and whistled back, finally pulling into the platform. On the platform next to him was some workmen loading crates of vegetables into refrigerated vans. Gordon let out a sigh of relief as the inspectors stepped off the express. The inspector checked his golden watch; he stared, then adjusted his glasses.

"On… schedule?" Gordon didn't hear him, however, as he looked back and noticed Rebecca was absentmindedly heading straight towards the vans.

"Look out, Rebecca!" Rebecca looked ahead and gasped, trying her best to brake and avoid an accident, but it was too late. Rebecca rammed into the vans, causing the crates inside to fly everywhere. The dust settled, revealing Rebecca smiling sheepishly at the glares around her.

"Heh… sorry…"

"You miserable engine, now we'll have to clean all this up!" Out of anger, a workman picked up a tomato and threw it at Rebecca, right on her nose. The tomato slid down her face and landed on her footplate with a squish. Rebecca winced as the workman stomped away.

"Oh dear…" The inspectors shook their heads and were about to say something when there was an eruption of laughter. The inspectors turned around in surprise to see Gordon, who was laughing the hardest he had that day. Gordon noticed the inspectors looking at him and tried to stop himself.

"I'm so sorry, sirs, this is very unprofessional," Gordon tried to say, despite him still laughing, "But please don't write me up, I-"

"Why would we write you up?" the inspector asked, as if shocked at the question. That stopped Gordon's laughter immediately.

"Because… Because this is an inspection! It's a serious job, and you can't have an engine chortling across the island like some common tank engine!" To Gordon's shock, the inspectors started laughing, Rebecca awkwardly joining in.

"Oh, that's just silly! We take our inspections very seriously, yes, but there's nothing wrong with a good laugh every now and then! Besides, _you've _been the best part of this inspection thus far!"

"What? But I-"

"-got us here on time despite the constant delays." the inspector interrupted, "That's the true making of a reliable and really useful engine. Sir Topham should be very proud to have you on his railway." Gordon's eyes lit up, but he quickly cleared his throat in a dignified manner.

"Yes, of course. I knew that." Just then, they heard distinct grumbling, and looked over to see Spencer pulling into the station throat with a slow goods train.

"Oh, the shame, the _shame!_" Spencer lamented, "My status means nothing to these peasants."

"Having some hard work, are you, Spencer?" Gordon grinned, "Good on you. Maybe someday you'll be just as reliable as a _real _engine." Spencer snorted.

"At least I'm not an immature-"

"Oh, wedge head! Took you long enough!" Rosie smirked, rolling alongside with some trucks, "I thought you were supposed to be fast!" Spencer growled furiously, disappearing in a cloud of steam. Everyone in the station started laughing, even the inspectors. Gordon, however, laughed loudest of all.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, I'm not sure if this was expected or not. Season 23 episodes have started airing, mainly in the US, so I figured this was fair game. It was great being able to revisit Charlie again after not really using him since his original two-parter, and figuring out my version of Spencer was a fun task as well. It was also a lot of fun squeezing in characters like Diesel, Trevor, Max and Monty, and Rosie at the very end, it makes the cast feel a bit less isolated than it does in the show proper. The next rewrite will most likely be another Season 23 episode, either _Chucklesome Trucks _or _Diesel Glows Away_. Another note real quick; just because I adapt an episode doesn't mean I don't like it, I really like _School of Duck_, _Samson and the Fireworks_, and _Confusion Without Delay_, it's just more so these are writing them into my AU. I'm not sure if that makes sense, I just don't want to seem like a negative nancy. Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading and see you next time!


	9. Charlie Glows Away

**CHARLIE GLOWS AWAY**

* * *

The shunting yard by the big station is always very busy, with many an engine coming and going to leave or pick up their trains. Stafford, Stanley and Philip bustled about the yard, trying their best to keep up.

"Phew! This is the last of Henry's heavy goods," Stafford panted, pushing some trucks into a siding before coming to a stop beside an equally exhausted Stanley.

"Thank goodness. Philip's sorting out Emily's coaches?"

"Yes, but what about Mavis' empty trucks?" Stafford asked anxiously, "She's still waiting at the station." Stanley raised an eyebrow.

"Wasn't Charlie supposed to take care of that?" Stafford rolled his eyes.

"Supposed to, yes. Where is he?" Then, the two heard a chorus of laughter. Stanley and Stafford shared an unimpressed look.

"Your turn," Stafford said quickly. Stanley sighed and rolled to the other side of the yard, where a certain purple tank engine had surrounded himself with trucks.

"...and Rebecca got a _tomato _thrown at her! Well hey, they do say vegetables are good for you, but I wouldn't quite fancy a giant banana right on top of my salad!" The trucks guffawed.

"She really does look like that!"

"I thought I was the only one!" Charlie smirked proudly.

"Thank you, thank you, I-"

"Charlie…" Charlie stopped and was surprised to see Stanley giving him an annoyed look. Charlie chuckled.

"Oh, hey, Stan! I'm just wrapping up this bit, so if you could just wait a minute-"

"Charlie, please, we have work to do and don't have time for this. Can you just fetch Mavis' empties? They're over on the far siding." Charlie snorted.

"Alright, alright, don't get your buffers in a twist, mister shiny smokebox." Stanley sighed as Charlie rolled away, giving his usual apologies to the trucks. Stafford rolled alongside Stanley.

"I hope the big engines don't complain to us again," Stanley mumbled, "They never seem to take it up with _him_."

"Because he won't listen," Stafford sympathized, "I hope you don't mind me saying so, Stanley, but I sometimes wonder if it'd be easier to work around here if Charlie wasn't around." Stanley smiled wryly.

"Would keep us on schedule at least." The two chuckled and returned to work, unaware that Charlie had heard every word they said. Charlie gritted his teeth as he buffered up to the empty trucks.

"Oh, so they think they don't need me, do they? Huh! Bunch of ingrates, I keep this yard running too! They just don't have a sense of humour!" Charlie continued grumbling to himself as he brought the empty trucks to the station. He wasn't paying attention and bashed the trucks straight into Mavis. Mavis glared.

"Be more careful, Charlie!" Mavis honked her horn and rolled away. Charlie growled.

"'Be more careful', she says," he mocked, "I'll show them. If they don't want me around, so be it! Let's see how well they get on without me helping them!" Charlie reversed out of the station, still pouting.

* * *

Charlie rolled towards the old maintenance shed beside Tidmouth Sheds, his pout replaced by a smirk.

"They'll come looking for me once they realize just how useful I am, surely!" Charlie thought aloud as he stopped in between two long rows of trucks.

"And funny too, don't forget that. Funnier than those stick-in-the-muds in any case. Maybe this good ol' joke will get them to lighten up a bit." Charlie got cut off by a whistle. He gasped excitedly.

"Oh! That must be someone looking for me already!" Charlie reversed out of the shed, dawning a showman's grin.

"Congratulations, you lucky engine, you found..." Charlie trailed off, as the whistle had only belonged to Douglas, who was passing by the sheds and didn't even look at him.

"...me." Charlie did his best not to look disappointed.

"Your loss!" he shouted at Douglas, who only puffed out of sight. Charlie scoffed as he rolled back into the shed.

"Fine then. I'll just have to _wait _here. Alone. With these trucks." After a few moments of silence, Charlie sighed, already growing bored.

* * *

Back in the yard, Stanley was taking on water at the water column when Philip raced alongside, looking worried.

"Stanley, Stanley! Have you seen Charlie?" Stanley frowned.

"Not since I asked him to get Mavis' trucks. Why?"

"I haven't seen him all day! He must be _missing!_" Philip exclaimed, starting to panic, "We have to go and find him!" Before Stanley could reply, Stafford rolled up, rather unperturbed.

"I wouldn't worry, Philip. Charlie must've went off on some errand without telling us. Wouldn't be the first time."

"Quite right," Stanley agreed, though he didn't sound as confident as he would've liked, "Charlie can take care of himself. He'll be back soon, I'm sure of it. In the meantime, do you mind fetching Duck's incoming ballast?" Philip grinned eagerly.

"Sir, yes, sir!" he cried and scurried away. Stanley chuckled, but couldn't help but think something wasn't quite right.

* * *

The sun became lower and lower in the sky, but still no one had come to find Charlie. Charlie was growing more and more restless.

"Where _is _everyone? Someone has to have noticed I'm gone by _now_. To think when Thomas goes missing he 'must be found', but apparently not me. Favoritism, am I right?" Charlie smiled at the lifeless trucks around him, but of course they didn't laugh. Charlie sighed.

"It's not as funny when there isn't an audience…" Suddenly, he heard a clanging sound. Charlie frowned and reversed out of the siding, only to see a crow smacking a piece of metal against one of the trucks. He then noticed the crates inside the truck, on which labels could be partially made out. They said "Glow-in-the-Dark Paint." Charlie gasped and smirked.

"This just keeps getting better and better!" he giggled to himself.

* * *

Soon, night fell and the engines at Knapford Sheds were arriving to sleep for the night. Stanley arrived last, taking a glance at Charlie's empty berth before reversing into his own.

"You still haven't seen Charlie?" he asked Stafford.

"No, and no one else seems to have seen him either. It is a bit strange."

"What? What's happened to Charlie?" Harvey gasped worriedly from the far end of the shed. Stanley sighed.

"He seems to have mysteriously disappeared, or so it seems."

"Shouldn't you go looking for him then?" Harvey suggested earnestly, "He might be in trouble." Stafford thought for a moment.

"He must've simply slept in another shed, he might still be angry at us. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, he'll turn up in the morning." Harvey and Stanley shared an unsure look. Unable to do anything about the situation, though, the engines went uneasily to sleep.

Charlie crept up slowly towards the shed, a cheeky smile plastered on his face. His face and smokebox were covered in green glow-in-the-dark paint. Harvey, Philip, Stanley and Stafford were all fast asleep.

"Stanley, Stanley..." Charlie whispered, changing his voice to sound what he thought would sound spooky. Stanley kept on snoring. Charlie glared.

"_Stan!_" Stanley opened a sleepy eye.

"Huh? Wha...?" Through his barely open eyes, he could make out a glowing shape that almost resembled…

"...Charlie?" Charlie grinned.

"Yes, it's me, Stanley! You're having a _dream _right now! A dream about your dear old, and very funny, friend, who you miss very much!" Stanley just looked confused, but Charlie went on.

"All those extra trucks and coaches that you and Stafford had to shunt because you didn't have me around! Oh, the weight on your buffers! But it could be lifted if you _found _me!" Charlie reversed away, leaving Stanley to look around in confusion.

"...huh." He quickly closed his eyes and went to sleep again. Charlie wasn't done, however. He came back as soon as he was sure Stanley was asleep and rolled up to Stafford.

"Stafford, oh Stafford! It's me, Charlie! Why haven't you tried to find me, Stafford? Do you really not miss me? I think your guilt is why I'm here! But I'm not… actually here, it's a _dream!_" Unfortunately for Charlie, Stafford wasn't the one he woke up. He heard a loud gasp and looked over to see Philip, staring agape. Charlie smiled sheepishly.

"Uh…"

"_Charlie!_ It's you! Or is it really you? Why are you glowing? Where have you been?" Charlie looked across the shed hastily as the other engines started to stir from Philip's loud questions.

"Shh, okay?" he hissed, interrupting the boxcab, "I'm, uh, hiding! I was trying to tell Stafford in a dream, but you must have gotten the dream instead!" Philip gasped excitedly.

"Wow! I got Stafford's dream! I can't wait to tell him!" Charlie smirked.

"Please do! Also, tell him and Stanley to come looking for me!" With that, Charlie rolled away and the green glow over the sheds disappeared. Philip stared in awe until Charlie was out of sight.

* * *

The next morning, right at the crack of dawn, Stanley and Stafford were still asleep… but not for long. A blaring horn blasted in the shed, waking the two, along with Harvey, up instantly. The three groaned from being woken up as Philip grinned excitedly.

"Oh, you're finally awake! I could hardly sleep all night waiting to give you a message!" Stafford yawned.

"Message? Can't it wait another… five…" Stafford started to fall asleep again, but was quickly woken up again by another blast of Philip's horn.

"No, it can't, silly! Charlie came to me last night in a dream I had, telling _me_ to tell _you _to find _him! _He said he's hiding somewhere!" Stanley and Stafford exchanged a look.

"What's he talking about, Stanley?" Stafford asked. Stanley grimaced.

"Erm… I'm not sure, but I think I saw Charlie last night too-"

"See, I told you!" Philip cut in, talking a mile a minute, "Charlie must've given Stanley the dream too! He was supposed to give you it too, Stafford, but he accidentally gave it to me! I wonder how that works. You should ask him when you find him!" Before Stanley or Stafford could answer, Philip raced out of the shed upon hearing Gordon's whistle.

"Coming, Gordon!" he called. Stafford blinked before glancing at Stanley.

"Are you _sure _you saw Charlie?" he asked in disbelief. Stanley chuckled awkwardly.

"Well, er… I must've seen _something_. I remember some sort of glow that had Charlie's voice." To Stanley's surprise, Stafford started rolling away.

"S-Stafford?"

"We're getting to the bottom of this," Stafford called back, "Come on!" Stanley shared a glance with Harvey and reluctantly, Stanley followed.

* * *

Stanley and Stafford hurried down the main line, Stafford mulling in front.

"Now, if I were Charlie, where I would run off to…?" he mused.

"Maybe another yard? Somewhere he'd have an audience," Stanley suggested. Stafford was about to answer when they heard a deep-toned whistle. The two looked over and saw Douglas on the other line, slowing down to talk to them.

"Och aye, I know where he is." Stanley and Stafford were stunned.

"You do?" Stanley inquired.

"Aye, he's in that wee shed beside Tidmouth. Making a big racket tae." Douglas whistled and continued on, leaving the two engines behind. Stanley groaned.

"Oh, we're in for it now. The engines are never gonna let us hear the end of Charlie keeping them up all night."

"Never mind, let's just try and find him," Stafford soothed and continued on, Stanley following behind.

* * *

Stafford and Stanley rolled up to the shed, each noticing a green glow coming from between the rows of trucks.

"That's the glow I saw!" Stanley gasped. Stafford advanced into the shed.

"It's time to do your fair share, Charlie!" he called but suddenly stopped.

"What's the matter, Stafford?" Stanley asked worriedly. Stafford groaned.

"He's not here! How…?" He then noticed green glow-in-the-dark paint splattered around the buffers.

"Well, that explains a lot," Stafford muttered, deadpan.

"So he covered himself in glow-in-the-dark paint…? Then that means he came to our shed last night!" Stanley exclaimed.

"But where is he now?" Stafford wondered.

* * *

Charlie was now in another hiding spot - inside Henry's Tunnel, waiting to be found. Charlie groaned in frustration.

"Oh, bother those big engines! Saying I shouldn't be by their shed, who says I shouldn't? Sounds like a very biased selection process if you ask me." Charlie looked around, but no one was around to hear his joke.

"Hmph. Isn't anyone gonna come find me?" he grumbled bitterly.

* * *

Meanwhile, Stafford and Stanley were still continuing their search for Charlie.

"I hope we're not gone too long, Philip might not be able to hold up," Stanley fretted.

"He'll be alright, he has enough energy for three. Besides, it's still early; we just have to find Charlie and…" Stafford started to slow down.

"Uh oh." Stafford groaned as he slowly drew to stop, just inside a tunnel. Stanley braked behind him, chuckling.

"Run out of battery?" he asked knowingly. Stafford smiled sheepishly.

"...yes. Sorry, I forgot to recharge before we left."

"Ah well, I can always push you." Stanley buffered up behind Stafford and started to push when he noticed that inside the tunnel, there were splatters of glow-in-the-dark paint on their line. Stanley gasped.

"Stafford, look! It's a trail! This must lead to where Charlie's gone off to!"

"Brilliant, Stanley!" Stafford grinned, "We just have to follow it!"

"We can't do that until tonight, though. The paint's only visible at night." Stafford blushed.

"Oh. Of course, I knew that. Seems Charlie has another day off."

"And hopefully his last," added Stanley wryly. He whistled and pulled Stafford back to the yard to get recharged.

* * *

That night, after another long day of shunting, Stafford and Stanley went out searching again, retracing their steps to the tunnel where they first saw the splatters of paint.

"Right, let's find that Charlie," Stafford smirked and surged ahead, Stanley puffing behind. They followed the trail all up the main line, Stanley pushing Stafford along so as to conserve his battery. They approached Henry's Tunnel and noticed a particular glow coming from inside. Stafford chuckled.

"Looks like we've found him." He was about to roll ahead when he heard Stanley clear his throat.

"Stanley? What is it?" To his surprise, Stanley was smirking.

"How about we go and see if the Steamworks is still open, eh?" Stafford took a moment to realize what Stanley was getting at and smirked back.

"Oh, I see. Am I thinking what you're thinking?"

"Hopefully. Come on, it's not that far. Let's pay our own little joke on the jokester." Stanley and Stafford reversed away from the tunnel, chuckling to themselves.

* * *

In the tunnel, Charlie was becoming increasingly miserable.

"Okay, this isn't funny anymore," he muttered but gained a determined expression.

"No! I must struggle on! The look on their faces will make it all worth it!" Charlie's smile melted away as he looked around the barren and lonely tunnel.

"Why hasn't anyone come to find me? They're not really better off without me, are they?" Just as Charlie had this moment of self-doubt, he heard saw what looked like two faces coming from the other side of the tunnel. Charlie froze in terror as Stanley and Stafford's glowing faces approached him, Stanley right in front of him.

"It's not fair to hide away like this, Charlie!" Stafford's voice rang out.

"Your friends had to do all your shunting for you for two whole days!" Stanley added. Charlie slammed his eyes shut.

"It's not real, it's not real, it's not real…" he whimpered. He barely opened an eye, but the faces were still there.

"No one wants to come find you because you play instead of work!" Stanley continued. Charlie was absolutely terrified.

"I-I'm sorry, honest, I am! I'll do my shunting from now on, no interruptions! In fact, I-I'll do all yours _and _Philip's too!" Charlie stammered, "Just please, leave me alone!" Stanley and Stafford's faces started to back away.

"Think of your friends, think of your friends…" they wailed as they seemed to almost disappear from sight. Charlie groaned.

"Now I know why Henry hates tunnels…"

* * *

Charlie quietly reversed into Knapford Sheds, his face and smokebox clean. He sighed and glanced at the other four engines in the shed, shuddering at Stanley and Stafford. He reversed all the way into his berth, unaware that Stanley and Stafford were smirking.

* * *

The next day, Charlie seemed almost like a completely different engine. Stanley and Stafford watched in the big station, impressed, as Charlie hastily arranged a rake of express coaches for Rebecca.

"See? I'm useful, really useful, really _really _useful- oh wait, no, I shouldn't use two. Ugh, focus, Charlie! I'm so useful, and funny, that everyone will always want me around!" Rebecca looked back in surprise as Charlie didn't bump the coaches into her, instead smoothly coming to a stop and reversing away to get another train. As Rebecca departed, Harvey rolled alongside Stanley and Stafford, staring at Charlie in bewilderment.

"I've never seen Charlie work so hard before," he remarked. Stanley and Stafford grinned.

"Indeed, haven't had to scramble to get everyone out on time," Stafford agreed.

"Not one joke to the trucks, either," Stanley added. Harvey raised an eyebrow at them.

"What exactly did you say to Charlie to make him do all this shunting?" Stanley and Stafford winked at each other.

"Whooo can say?" they joked before laughing. Charlie, who was already shunting the Slip Coaches into another platform, saw Stanley and Stafford laughing and gasped.

"Wait… they… They tricked me! Used my _own _trick against me, no less!" He then started to laugh.

"Oh, that's good! That's really good!" Charlie, Stanley, Stafford continued laughing, leaving Harvey to simply watch, confused.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I wasn't expecting to do this, but someone I know talked about how _Diesel Glows Away _could easily work with Charlie and I was extremely interested to see how that would play out. I loved writing this, this helped me figure out a lot of things, mainly developing the dynamic between the shunting yard engines. Stanley won't be as present at the yard in future stories as the other three, but it's nice to get my new interpretation of him out there at least; doesn't like conflict, wants to please others and generally a softie. Stafford I've written a bit at this point, but I think here was his most proactive role which I'm excited about, I didn't expect to get such mileage out of a character I could initially care less about. The same could be said for Charlie, who I adore writing at this point. Including other side characters like Douglas, Harvey and Mavis was fun too as well as reestablishing Knapford Sheds (along with Harvey still sleeping there), which will pop up every now and then. I made it a mission almost not to let any Steam Team members speak in this since I figured it'd be great to have a story (and episode if this was televised) where they didn't, and I think it turned out well. An original story is in the works but that might take some more time to cook up, but don't worry, its on its way. In the meantime, thank you for reading!


	10. Not-So-Troublesome Trucks

**NOT-SO-TROUBLESOME TRUCKS**

* * *

It was a sunny day on the island, and an equally sunny engine pulled into Knapford with a broad smile.

"Have a lovely day!" Rebecca called to her disembarking passengers. Some of them waved back as they went into the station building. Rebecca grinned and was about to roll away when she heard a horn.

"Wait, Rebecca! I need to shunt your coaches away!" Rebecca looked back to see Stafford rolling up behind her, buffering up to the brake coach.

"Oh, there's no need for that, Stafford! I can take them to the yard myself!" Stafford blinked in shock.

"R-Really?"

"Of course! It's only polite. Besides, you shunters work so hard for us, may as well return the favor!" Rebecca whistled and cheerfully rolled out of the station, taking the express coaches with her. Stafford watched her leave, still trying to process what just happened.

"Gordon never shunts away _his _coaches," he mused.

* * *

Rebecca hummed to herself as she rolled into the shunting yard, but stopped when she noticed the unusual amount of engines sitting among the rolling stock, as if they were waiting for something. Rebecca braked to a halt beside Thomas, James and Percy.

"What's going on? Why are you all gathered here?" she inquired curiously.

"There's a rumour going around that the Fat Controller has a special train planned tomorrow!" Thomas explained excitedly.

"And _I'm _going to be the first to volunteer!" James smirked. Percy glared.

"No, _I _will!"

"Ha! Now I've heard everything. The Fat Controller would never choose you!"

"I can take specials too!" Percy protested. Thomas rolled his eyes as James and Percy started to argue. Rebecca watched worriedly, but her attention was diverted as in the distance, Winston could be seen rolling into the yard.

"Shush, you two! He's here!" Rebecca whispered frantically. The engines subsided as the Fat Controller jerked Winston to a halt near the four of them. Winston looked around at all the engines surrounding him and winced.

"Has anyone ever heard of personal space?" he muttered.

"What is going on here?" the Fat Controller demanded, "Why are you all-" He trailed off as the engines grinned at him expectantly. He sighed.

"So I suppose you've heard the rumour then."

"Yes, sir! Please, sir, pick me!" Percy pleaded, flashing a quick smirk at James, who momentarily pouted, but then smirked himself.

"Obviously, sir, you'd be much better off with _me_ taking the special, whatever it is!" he boasted, rolling in front of Percy.

"Choose me, sir!" cried Thomas, rolling in front of both James and Percy, "I haven't pulled a special in ages!"

"You just took a special last week!" James snorted, "Leave some for the rest of us!" Thomas glared but before he could retort, the Fat Controller spoke first.

"_Silence!_" The yard quickly grew quiet as the engines watched in anticipation. The Fat Controller crossed his arms.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, but please, settle down. The rumour is true-" The engines all gasped, except for Rebecca, who wasn't entirely sure what was going on. The Fat Controller held up his hand.

"There _is _a very important goods train that needs to be taken from here to Vicarstown tomorrow. Since you're all so eager, would one of you care to volunteer?" The engines shared awkward glances.

"Trucks?" Percy groaned in disappointment before reversing away.

"_Troublesome _Trucks?" Thomas huffed and followed Percy.

"No thank you," James scoffed in disgust and quickly trailed behind the tank engines. Rebecca watched in confusion as the rest of the engines disappeared like magic, leaving her the only one remaining. The Fat Controller smiled gratefully.

"Ah, Rebecca! Thank you! The trucks will be waiting here tomorrow morning. Don't worry about your express, you should be back in time to collect it." Before Rebecca could say anything, Winston, who was eager to leave as soon as possible, hurried away.

"Well, that was unexpected, wasn't it?" Rebecca thought aloud but wasn't deterred by the new development and kept her smile for the rest of the day.

* * *

That night, Rebecca rolled alongside Tidmouth Sheds as part of her usual routine before heading off to her shed.

"Hello, everyone! How was your day?" Rebecca's smile wavered as to her surprise, most of the engines in the sheds were giving her pitying looks.

"What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No, it's not that, it's just… Why did you volunteer to take the Troublesome Trucks?" Thomas asked. Rebecca smiled sheepishly.

"Well, er, I didn't exactly volunteer, but I don't see what the fuss is about. It could be fun!" The engines stared at her in utter bewilderment.

"This is your first time pulling the Troublesome Trucks, isn't it, Rebecca?" Emily murmured knowingly.

"I suppose it is, yes. Say, why _do_ you call trucks that?"

"Because they're _troublesome_," grumbled Thomas, "When I first took them, they pushed me down the hill, and I almost crashed through the buffers when I got to the bottom!" As Thomas recounted his experience, James couldn't help but snicker. Thomas shot him an unimpressed look.

"You actually _had_ an accident, James. Remember the time you were _also _pushed down the hill and crashed into some tar tankers?" James grimaced.

"Don't remind me. That took hours to clean off!"

"The trucks pushed me once," chimed in Henry, "I crashed straight at the bottom of the hill. Was quite a mess." Rebecca gasped.

"Oh dear! That hill sounds very unlucky."

"Oh, not every accident happens there!" James smirked, "Once, _Percy _was pushed by the trucks right into a brake van!" He began to laugh.

"I'd only wish I'd been there to see it myself!" Percy's face reddened in embarrassment.

"I just didn't want to take the milk…" he mumbled meekly.

"My goodness! Have you ever had an accident like that, Gordon?" Rebecca asked. Gordon looked at his buffers.

"No, no, of course not. We express engines aren't meant to pull trucks anyway." Henry grinned at Rebecca.

"Don't let him fool you. He once had quite the tumble-"

"Henry! Don't be vulgar!" Gordon interrupted crossly. Rebecca was having trouble keeping her smile now; she couldn't help but feel just a little nervous. Edward, who was closest to her, noticed this.

"If you'd like, Rebecca," he whispered, "I can take the trucks for you." Rebecca assumed a determined expression.

"I appreciate the offer, Edward, but I can do it! Maybe the trucks just need someone to be nice to them!" Edward grinned encouragingly.

"That's the spirit! I'd say 'good luck', but I don't think you'll need it. I have a feeling you'll be just fine." Rebecca smiled back and started rolling away.

"Good night, everyone!" she called and puffed away into the night. The engines, barring Edward of course, exchanged a look.

"Place your bets, lads. If you lose, you have to shunt the winner's trains. I say she crashes while going down the hill," sneered James.

"I say she crashes while trying to stop at Vicarstown. Those brakes of hers are always finicky," said Gordon. Henry rolled his eyes, but got an idea and smirked.

"I bet she won't crash at all!" Gordon and James stared.

"Quite presumptuous, Henry," Gordon remarked.

"Well, Henry's definitely shunting _someone's_," James huffed. Henry just ignored them and grinned at Edward.

* * *

The following morning, although she was still a little nervous, Rebecca couldn't help but be excited as she rolled into the shunting yard.

"I wonder what they'll be like! I know they said they were troublesome, but they can't be _that _bad." She spotted a tired Stafford shunting a long line of trucks into position and rolled alongside.

"Good morning, Stafford! Oh my, you look exhausted."

"I am," Stafford panted wearily, "I was honoured when I was told to shunt the special, but these trucks have been playing tricks all morning. I'd watch your tender if I were you, Rebecca." Rebecca glanced at the trucks, who were eyeing her with wicked delight.

"I don't usually watch my tender, but there's a first time for everything, I suppose," she remarked innocently as she backed down onto her train. Stafford raised an eyebrow but didn't comment as he reversed away. Rebecca whistled and was about to get the train moving when she heard a whistle.

"Are you _sure _you know what you're doing, Rebecca?" Emily asked worriedly as she rolled alongside.

"Not quite, but that's part of the adventure, isn't it? I'm sure these trucks can be won over. Anyway, I best be going now! Can't be late, can I? I'll see you at the sheds tonight, Emily!" Rebecca called as she began pulling the heavy trucks. Emily winced at the trucks, who were already giggling wildly.

"Or the Steamworks…" she muttered cynically.

* * *

Soon, Rebecca was out on the main line with her special train. She could hear the trucks whispering to each other, though not what they were saying. She decided to pluck up courage.

"Good morning! My name's Rebecca!" she called back to the trucks. The trucks stopped whispering immediately and exchanged confused looks.

"Huh?" a truck called loudly. Rebecca frowned.

"Oh! I thought it was polite to say 'good morning.' What do you prefer?" The trucks just looked even more confused.

"What's happening?" a truck whispered hoarsely.

"I don't know! No one ever tells us 'good morning!'" the truck in front of it replied nervously. Rebecca overheard this and gasped.

"No one ever tells you 'good morning?' Well, that's rather rude, I think." The trucks glanced at each other.

"Should we still bump her?" a truck asked, somewhat meekly.

"Of course we should!" grumbled another, "She's fresh meat!" The other trucks seemed reluctant, but nonetheless started singing.

"Rebecca's pulling us along, Rebecca's pulling us along, Rebecca's pulling us along, give her a _bump!_" they sang, clearly struggling to make it insulting. They surged forward, giving Rebecca a small bump.

"Oh!" she cried, feeling the trucks' buffers biff her tender, "That was _also _a bit rude. You wouldn't like me bumping you, would you?" The trucks fell silent, unsure of how to respond.

"...no," one mumbled. Rebecca smiled.

"Exactly! I didn't know you trucks liked singing, though. I don't think I have much of a singing voice myself, but I could always join in if you want." The trucks raised eyebrows at each other. It was going to be a very interesting journey indeed.

* * *

At the bottom of Gordon's Hill, James had stopped on his way from Maron with a goods train.

"When's that hot box going to cool down?" he grumbled, "I have to get a good run at this hill _someday_."

"Be patient, James," soothed his driver, "It'll cool down eventually." James scowled as the culprit giggled behind him.

"Not soon enough. I hope Rebecca's having a better time than I am." Meanwhile, on the other side of the hill, Rebecca was nearing the top. She panted as she surged up the steep slope.

"Goodness me, this hill's quite a bit harder to climb with trucks." She realized what she said and looked back sheepishly.

"Not to offend you or anything!" The trucks hadn't paid attention, however, as they were more focused on each other.

"Right! We've got her right where we want her," smirked a truck, "Let's push 'er down!" The other trucks looked at each other uncertainly, but murmured in agreement.

"On three, lads!" called the truck, "One…" Rebecca was just making it over the top of the hill. The trucks all along the train looked ready to push.

"Two…" the truck said, sounding less confident than before. James could see Rebecca and the trucks from where he was at the bottom and began watching intently.

"_Three!_" cried the truck, somewhat weakly. Rebecca started sailing down the other side of the hill, whooping and cheering as she gained speed. The trucks, however, didn't surge forward and simply let Rebecca roll along naturally. Her brakes came on with their signature groan, and by the time she reached the bottom, she had regained control of the train. James was stunned.

"R-Rebecca?"

"Oh, hello, James!" Rebecca called cheerfully as she roared past, "Lovely day we're having!" James blinked in surprise as Rebecca and the train puffed out of sight.

"Well, that was anticlimactic…" he muttered.

* * *

Rebecca continued on her way along the main line, unaware of the turmoil her train was going through.

"Weren't we… _supposed _to push her?" a truck asked plainly.

"Yeah, but… I didn't want to? I'm not sure why," the one behind it mused.

"I thought I was the only one!" another truck gasped, and soon a chorus of agreement rang among the trucks. Rebecca looked back, confused.

"What's going on back there?" The trucks quieted down. Rebecca, suspecting nothing, dropped it from her mind. The trucks sighed with relief.

"Alright, alright, we're _trucks! _This engine can't just push us around," a truck huffed bitterly.

"Yeah! If we don't want to _push _her, then we should… uh… _hold _her back instead!" agreed another.

"At Crovan's Gate! She won't suspect it, and we'll stop her right in her tracks!" giggled the last truck before the brake van. The other trucks seemed conflicted, but nonetheless agreed and began plotting their scheme.

* * *

At Crovan's Gate, Gordon was standing proudly at the platform with the express. Every so often, he would glance anxiously at the other tracks of the main line. Skarloey, from the narrow gauge track, couldn't help but notice.

"Something the matter, Gordon?" Gordon jumped and smiled sheepishly.

"Of course not, Skarloey. Nothing to be concerned about."

"Well, alright, if you say so." Skarloey whistled and rolled away with his coaches. Gordon glanced at the track beside him.

"Rebecca ought to be flying through any moment. Poor engine… Her first time pulling trucks too. I did try to warn her." He sighed mournfully.

"Now I'll have to just be the singular express engine again while she's being repaired… Hope it won't take long." As Gordon was talking to himself, Rebecca was approaching the station throat with her trucks.

"Right, we're almost there! Let's hold back!" cried a truck. The trucks began doing so, tugging as hard as they could. Rebecca felt the jolt from her tender and began to slow down.

"Oh! What's that?" Gordon noticed Rebecca approaching and gaped as she came in not speeding at all, but slowing down.

"H-Huh?" Gordon stammered as Rebecca rolled through the station, looking rather worried.

"Is something the matter, trucks? I didn't hurt any of you, did I? I'm so sorry if I did, I'm not quite used to trucks, I'm afraid." The trucks stared first at Rebecca, then at each other.

"She… cares about us?" a truck uttered, confused. Their bewilderment soon turned into guilt.

"What have we been doing? She's one of the only good ones!" a truck wailed. The other trucks agreed and immediately stopped holding back.

"Nothing's wrong, Rebecca!" the front truck cried. Rebecca sighed with relief.

"Oh, thank goodness! I can just be a bit clumsy sometimes." The train rolled along in silence for a few minutes before a truck spoke up.

"Um… Rebecca? You wouldn't mind taking up that offer to join our singing, would you?"

* * *

Henry rolled gently into Vicarstown station, having just returned from taking a goods train to the mainland. He sighed happily, looking around at the familiar landscape. Suddenly, in the distance he could hear what sounded like…

"Is that _singing_?" he muttered.

"Rebecca's pulling us along, Rebecca's pulling us along, Rebecca's pulling us along, we're almost done!" the trucks chorused. Rebecca grinned and joined in.

"I love pulling trucks along, I love pulling trucks along, I love pulling trucks along, they're lots of fun!" Henry could hardly believe what he was seeing as both Rebecca and the trucks laughed. The unusual train came to a stop at the platform,

"Rebecca?" Henry gasped in surprise. Rebecca grinned at him.

"Hi, Henry! I don't see how these trucks are so 'troublesome' for you, I've never had so much fun working!" Henry glanced between Rebecca and the trucks, who surprisingly looked equally as cheerful.

"Well, I never…" Henry then burst out laughing. Rebecca looked on curiously.

"Henry? What's so funny?" Henry hastily cleared his throat.

"Er, never mind, Rebecca, it's nothing." He whistled and quickly rolled away, immediately starting to laugh again when he thought Rebecca couldn't hear him. She glanced back at the trucks.

"I wonder what that was all about." She smiled warmly.

"Ah well, I suppose it doesn't matter. See you all! I hope we get to work together again soon!" Rebecca was uncoupled and cheerfully rolled away to be turned around. The trucks glanced at each other and smiled.

* * *

That night, the engines were returning to Tidmouth Sheds after a hard day's work. Henry backed into his berth, snickering. Gordon raised an eyebrow at him.

"And just _what's _on your mind, Henry?" Henry smirked, about to explain when the engines heard a familiar whistle.

"Is that… Rebecca?" gasped Percy. Indeed, a large yellow tender engine drew to a halt beside the sheds without a single scratch on her.

"Evening, all! How was your day?"

"But… But we thought you crashed!" spluttered Emily in shock.

"Well, not all of us," muttered Henry, glancing at Edward. Rebecca laughed.

"I appreciate the concern, but I'm just fine! Those trucks were wonderful! You needn't call them 'troublesome,' I don't think they like that much." The engines gaped and looked ready to protest when Edward interrupted.

"I knew you'd be alright, Rebecca. Some of us are just more… pessimistic."

"Don't ruin your image, Rebecca," Gordon cut in bluntly, "You're still an express engine. You can't just pull… _trucks _all the time."

"Oh? I think you should give it a go sometime, it's quite fun! Good night, everyone!" Rebecca whistled and rolled away. Gordon sputtered, but Henry looked much more cheerful.

"Well, well, well! Rebecca _didn't _crash whatsoever! Do you know what that means?" Gordon and James stared in bewilderment before eventually realizing just what he was talking about. Their faces paled.

"W-Wait, Henry-" But Henry cut Gordon off.

"It means _I _won the bet!" Henry burst into laughter as Gordon and James looked at each other in horror. The other engines soon enough joined in laughing.

"...let's never make a bet again," Gordon whispered to James. James silently agreed with him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **And here we have another Season 23 rewrite! Writing this actually quite a pain for me since _Chucklesome Trucks _(yeah I changed the title of the adaptation since that title is terrible) didn't really have a lot to work with. I tinkered with it to produce this, probably so far the adaptation that changes the most from the original, aside from maybe _Seeing is Believing_. I removed the main trio having accidents since I couldn't really find a way to make it flow well, plus I wanted to focus more on Rebecca and the trucks. Instead, the big engines (with James still being present) make a bet and I'm really happy with how that thread turned out, gave some color to the story. Next time will definitely be a rewrite of _Panicky Percy_, but just who will it center around? Percy or someone else? I'll leave you to ponder that until I get it done, which'll hopefully be soon.


	11. Panicky Philip

**PANICKY PHILIP**

* * *

Every morning, Edward always is sure to stop by the shunting yard to talk to Philip.

"Edward's here!" Philip cried excitedly, having just heard Edward's whistle from the yard. He burst out of Knapford Sheds, leaving the other engines knowingly chuckling. Philip made a beeline for Edward, who had hardly even stopped before the boxcab braked alongside.

"Oh! You're here already? One of these days, you'll get here before me," Edward chuckled. Philip gasped.

"Maybe I will! We could make it a race if you like! I know you don't _usually_ race, but I think you could be good at it! How is your day going? Mine's going great! It only just started, but a day must be great if you're in it!" Edward smiled as Philip continued chatting a mile a minute.

* * *

One day, Philip awoke in the sheds as usual. As soon as his eyes opened, he raced out of the shed, blaring his horn.

"Edward! Edwa…" Philip broke off; as his eyes darted around the yard, Edward was nowhere to be seen.

"...rd?" Philip finished, confused. Stanley rolled alongside, yawning.

"Philip? What's the matter?"

"Where's Edward, Stanley?" Stanley was caught off guard by the question.

"Well, um… I don't know? He's usually here this early in the morning, isn't he?"

"Exactly! But he isn't today! He _always_ comes to say hello! Has something happened to him?" he asked worriedly. Stanley was unsure how to reply, so he glanced back at the other engines, mentally begging them to step in. Unfortunately for him, Harvey, Stafford and Charlie didn't seem to want to, Harvey mouthing "sorry."

"I'm… sure he'll be here soon, Philip," Stanley said at last, hoping he sounded confident enough, "He must have just gotten delayed. It happens sometimes."

"But _what_ delayed him?" Philip inquired, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. Stanley momentarily winced and began rolling away.

"We haven't time for questions, Philip, there are trains to shunt!" Philip pouted and sadly looked to where Edward always pulled up. After a moment's hesitation, he followed Stanley to work.

* * *

Philip tried to concentrate on his shunting, but he simply couldn't. All he could think about was Edward and why he hadn't arrived yet. As a result, he wasn't being particularly careful.

"Ouch!" James exclaimed as Philip accidentally bumped his coaches into him. He glared back crossly.

"Get your radiator out of the clouds, Philip!" Philip smiled sheepishly.

"Oops! Sorry, James!" James grunted and rolled away, revealing the rear of a blue tender that looked very familiar indeed. Philip gasped with joy.

"_Edward's here!_" Philip immediately raced off to see him. However, as Charlie shunted aside some trucks, Philip could see more of the engine and just who it really was. He sighed in disappointment as he drew beside them.

"Oh… It's just you, Gordon." Gordon snorted indignantly.

"_Just_ me? What cheek! I'll have you know-"

"I'm sorry, Gordon, I was just looking for Edward!" Philip cut in. Gordon wasn't any less annoyed.

"Bah! Do I look like Edward to you? Just because we're both blue tender engines doesn't mean-"

"It was simply a mistake, Gordon, no need to have a row about it," Stanley interrupted hastily, rolling between him and Philip. Gordon scoffed.

"An amateur mistake…" he grumbled and rolled away. Stanley sighed with relief and glanced at Philip.

"Are you alright, Philip?"

"I'm fine, but I don't know if Edward is! Where could he be, Stanley?" Stanley was about to reply when Philip noticed Duck coming into the yard. Philip honked his horn frantically, racing right in front of Duck.

"Duck, _Duck!_" Duck screeched to a halt, just barely avoiding hitting Philip.

"Philip! What's gotten into you?"

"Have you seen Edward today, Duck? It's an emergency!" Philip exclaimed. Duck thought for a moment.

"Well, er… no, actually. I've been busy on my-"

"See, Stanley, I'm not the only one!" Philip cut in hastily, "Edward must be in trouble!"

"Slow down, Philip, Edward's a resilient engine," Duck replied kindly, "I'm sure he's just fine."

"Besides, _someone_ must've seen him," agreed Stanley, "Maybe you could ask a few engines about him." Philip grinned.

"You're right! I'll find Edward if it's the last thing I do!" Philip reversed away from Duck, the points were switched and he scampered off down the line, away from the yard.

"Wait, Philip, come back!" shouted Stanley, "I meant…" But Philip had already left. Stanley sighed.

"...here." Duck gave him a sympathetic look.

* * *

Soon enough, Philip was asking everyone he met if they had seen Edward.

"Have you seen Edward, Thomas?" Philip asked, braking alongside Thomas at Knapford.

"Sorry, Philip, I haven't," Thomas replied apologetically.

"Neither have we," chorused Annie and Clarabel. Philip sighed. He rolled up to Diesel, who had stopped at Kellsthorpe to fill up on fuel.

"Diesel! Have you-" Diesel blew smoke from his exhaust in Philip's face and rolled away, chuckling darkly. Philip coughed before groaning.

"Come to think of it, I _did_ see a blue engine today," Sidney mused at the Blue Mountain Quarry. Philip gasped excitedly.

"You did?! Where?"

"Uh…" Just then, Sir Handel passed with some trucks, looking as grumpy as ever. Sidney smiled.

"Oh, that's him right there!" Philip stared blankly at him.

* * *

It wasn't long before Philip grew frustrated enough to give up his search. He groaned as he slowly rolled along the main line.

"_No one_ has seen Edward today! Duck must've been wrong… Edward _has_ to be in trouble!" He gasped in horror.

"He must've had an accident! An accident that no one knows happened, so he's been stranded all day!" His pace quickened and he started talking faster and faster.

"I have to find Edward and quickly! But who can help me…?" As he said this, he pulled into Dryaw station, where Harold the Helicopter stood on his helipad. Harold noticed the boxcab approaching.

"Hello there, old chap! You do look put out." Philip screeched to a halt and reversed as he saw the large helicopter. He had never seen him before, but he wasn't focused on that.

"I need to find Edward as soon as I can! He's had an accident!" Harold frowned.

"Edward? Having an accident?"

"Yes!" Philip cried, annoyed that Harold didn't seem to understand, "We have to find him! He could be in danger!"

"Tell you what, chap, I can search for him from the air. A bird's eye view, as they say. Would be more efficient than you looking at least." Philip didn't catch on to Harold's condescending attitude and smiled gratefully.

"Oh, thank you, big… um..."

"_Helicopter_, chap. Watch me, you'll soon understand." Harold's large arms began to spin around and soon, he lifted off from his helipad and into the sky. Philip watched in amazement as Harold buzzed away.

"Wow…"

* * *

Philip headed back to the yard, and for the first time that day, he felt at ease.

"That Harold's amazing! He'll find Edward in no time! I just hope he's okay…" In the distance, Philip could hear talking. Curiously, he rounded a bend and saw Douglas at a red signal with a goods train. Donald was just stopping alongside, pulling a works unit coach.

"What have ye got there, Donnie?" Douglas asked curiously. To Philip's surprise, Donald seemed unusually sullen.

"Just some workmen. Apparently, there's a giant mess down at the Clay Pits. Trucks everywhere."

"Aye, ye dinnae say… Poor Edward," murmured Douglas, "Must be going through quite tae ordeal right now." Philip gasped.

"_Edward!_" Donald and Douglas jumped and looked back in surprise.

"Where'd ye come from?" burst out Donald. Philip didn't bother to reply as in a wild panic, he shot past the twins and into the distance. Donald and Douglas shared a confused look.

* * *

Philip pounded the rails as he raced faster and faster down the line.

"Edward's in danger, I have to save him!" he panted, "Don't worry, Edward, I'll be there! Just hold on!" Just up ahead, there was a set of points in the line that were against Philip, but he was so busy panicking that he didn't realize this.

"Philip to the rescue- whoa!" Philip cried, his front wheels biffing into the points. They came off the rails and Philip, unbalanced, tipped off the tracks onto his side into a bank beside the line. Philip opened an eye and groaned.

"How am I going to save Edward now?" Suddenly, he heard a familiar buzzing noise from above. He looked up and saw Harold.

"Harold! Help!" Philip called desperately. From up in the sky, Harold could faintly hear a yelling. He looked down and saw Philip's accident. Harold sighed as he hovered to where he was just above Philip.

"So, you went off waffling, did you?" Philip stared in confusion, having no idea what Harold just said, though the helicopter didn't seem to notice.

"You didn't listen to me, clearly. Helicopters are much better scouts than you engines; we can't have a silly accident like this at least." Philip looked down at his buffers, ashamed.

"Never mind, chap, you did your best," Harold added hastily, "I'll get help as soon as I can. Sit tight!" Harold took off again, leaving Philip once again on his own.

* * *

Philip felt worse by the minute, lodged in his uncomfortable position.

"I've let everyone down… I've let _Edward_ down! I hope Harold rescues him first…" Just then, he heard a whistle. He looked up in surprise to see Harvey rolling up, Harold flying above.

"Philip!" gasped Harvey, "Are you alright?"

"Don't worry about me, Harvey!" Philip called, "You need to go to the Clay Pits! Edward's had an accident!"

"Philip?" Philip's eyes widened - he knew that voice. He looked in shock as Edward rolled up in the opposite direction, completely unharmed.

"E-Edward! You're okay!" Edward glanced at Harvey, who just looked as confused as he did.

"Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?"

"B-Because you didn't come to say hello this morning, and you never came all day! A-And no one else had seen you either, and I heard Donald mention an accident at the Clay Pits and-"

"-you panicked," Edward cut in gently. He smiled ruefully.

"It's flattering you were you so worried, Philip, but the accident wasn't mine at all. I was simply helping to clear up a large mess that Bill and Ben had made." Philip gaped.

"Bill and… Ben?" A loud horn echoed around the area as in the distance, a large, green diesel approached, pulling a very battered and embarrassed Bill and Ben on flatbeds.

"Those two can be quite the troublemakers," Edward explained, "From what Timothy told me, a prank of theirs went wrong and… well…" Edward gave a stern look to the twins as they passed by. Bill and Ben looked away, ashamed, as the diesel rolled away. Now, Philip felt ashamed too.

"Oh… I've been a bit silly, haven't I?"

"You can say that again," remarked Harold. Harvey glared up at him.

"Never mind, Philip. We'll have you back on the rails in no time," the crane engine said kindly.

"Thanks, Harvey." Philip sighed.

"I promise not to panic so much again, Edward." He then gasped as a thought struck him.

"Stanley! Where's Stanley?! I've been away for so long, he should be looking for me! What if he's had a terrible-" Stanley's whistle cut him off as he wearily pulled up to the accident alongside Harvey.

"Philip! There you are-" He broke off, realizing Philip's situation.

"Stafford won't let me hear the end of this…" Stanley muttered mournfully. Philip chuckled nervously as Edward gave him a look.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I felt like _Panicky Percy _missed the mark on Percy's characterization, so I decided to switch him over to Philip, who I feel makes a lot more sense. This was short, but I feel like the plot is simple enough to warrant it. Since Stafford got a role last time, I figured it fair to give Stanley one here, and I'm glad I did since I feel like he fits better in the role. Harold's role got expanded from the episode, where he just sort of shows up at the end, and it was very fun (and sweet) expanding Edward and Philip's dynamic. For the large, green diesel that cameos, yes, it's exactly who you think it is... unless you thought Bear for some reason. Why? Because if this was really how the episode went with BoCo's return in the show being him popping up without speaking with shots that specifically obscured his face, that'd be hilarious. If you ask why it isn't Timothy who's actually in CGI, well... he's still at the pits helping to clean up. I probably won't do this again for any other character so don't worry about it. Don't consider it fan service, consider it... "me service", heh. Anyway, there probably won't be any adaptations for a while as I focus my efforts towards another original story. In the meantime, thank you for reading!


	12. Edward the Very Useful Engine

**EDWARD THE VERY USEFUL ENGINE**

* * *

One day, the Fat Controller had sent Percy to drop off trucks of scrap metal at the Smelter's Yard. All the engines hate going there, but Percy hates it the most. Two shadowy diesels lurk around the yard and delight in spooking the steam engines, and Percy was a prime target. As the little green engine rolled past the twisted scrap that lay beside the line, he darted his eyes worriedly left and right.

"'A-Arry? B-Bert? Are you there?" But Percy couldn't see or hear any signs of either of them and sighed with relief.

"They must be inside," he thought aloud. However, he had spoken too soon. Percy felt a sudden bump from behind him and screamed. He then heard dark chuckling and looked back - there was 'Arry, who was smirking in wicked delight.

"P-Please don't scrap me," Percy pleaded meekly.

"No worries, mate. We won't scrap ya… yet," 'Arry grinned. Percy jumped as some trucks went flying beside him. Bert rolled up with a sneer.

"At least you're fun to play with. That puts you above ol' Edward."

"E-Edward? What's wrong with him?" Percy asked nervously. 'Arry rolled his eyes.

"What _isn't_ wrong with 'im, more like. 'E's so old 'e ought to be real easy to break up once it all ends for you useless steam pots."

"Yeah; at the very least 'e should retire, clear up 'is wasted space for something less… embarrassing," Bert agreed.

"Retire? But he doesn't have tyres! He's not a bus!" Percy protested but winced when 'Arry and Bert glared at him.

"'E's a simple one, ain't 'e, 'Arry? Almost feel bad for 'im," Bert remarked. 'Arry sighed dully.

"Look, you little green runt, _retiring_ means taken out of service."

"Maybe we should retire you first. Give you a good sense of what it means," Bert grinned wickedly. Percy gulped. His trucks were uncoupled and he raced away as quickly as he could, screaming, leaving 'Arry and Bert to smirk at each other.

* * *

Percy didn't stop until he reached Knapford station, where the Fat Controller was just walking out of his office. He stopped when he saw Percy, looking white as a ghost when he drew to a halt at the platform.

"Goodness gracious, Percy, you look terrible! Is something wrong?" the Fat Controller asked kindly. Percy tried his best to stammer out an answer.

"I-I-It's 'Arry a-and Bert, sir! T-They say Edward isn't useful anymore and should be retired! P-Please, sir, don't retire him, he's very useful and a wonderful friend!" The Fat Controller tapped his chin in thought.

"Do they indeed…? You ought to not listen to them, Percy; no matter what they say, this is my railway and I would never retire anyone, let alone Edward." Some of the colour went back into Percy's face.

"Oh, t-thank you, sir."

"Now, you best run along now, Percy. I have a certain matter to attend to." Percy, although not sure what he meant, whistled and rolled away, eager to be as far away from 'Arry and Bert as possible. The Fat Controller entered his office and sat down at his desk, staring at his timetables.

* * *

When Edward isn't on his branch line, you are likely to find him acting as a back engine. Sometimes, the engines' loads are too heavy for them to pull up Gordon's Hill on their own, so Edward comes to help push them to the top.

"Thank you, Edward!" called Henry as he rolled down the other side of the hill with a heavy goods train. Edward smiled and whistled in reply. He reversed back to Wellsworth, where he was surprised to see the Fat Controller standing on the platform.

"Good afternoon, sir," greeted Edward politely, trying to hide his confusion.

"Ah, Edward. I'm changing around the timetables; a little… experiment, you might say. I'm going to put you on your branch line full time," the Fat Controller explained. Edward gasped.

"Full time, sir? But what about the trains on the hill? They still need a back engine." The Fat Controller smirked.

"Indeed they do! But don't worry, Edward, I have a plan." Before Edward could reply, the Fat Controller walked away. Edward raised an eyebrow.

"That was strange," he muttered.

* * *

"_Me_, sir?" Duck stared down at the Fat Controller, utterly bewildered by what he had just heard.

"Yes, Duck. You needn't be nervous; you're a very powerful engine, and can certainly handle pushing the heavy trains."

"I know that, sir," replied Duck doubtfully, "But why can't Edward do it? He's been getting on just fine, and I still have my own work to do."

"Your line will be looked after. Just trust me, Duck; as you are well aware of, a change is as good as a rest." Duck watched worriedly as the Fat Controller got back into his car and drove away.

* * *

When the other engines heard of the changes, they were puzzled too.

"I like Duck as much as the next engine, but what was wrong with Edward?" grumbled Henry.

"He always helped us along our way, even if he is old," agreed James.

"You all are being silly," Gordon snorted, "I like Edward, but a back engine is a back engine, no matter who it is."

"It could be a nice change for Edward," chimed in Thomas, "Maybe he even requested it. Either way, the Fat Controller's mind seems made up." Gordon grunted.

"For once, Thomas is the sensible one. All that matters is that we get over that hill, and Duck can certainly handle that." The big engine whistled and rolled away, leaving Henry and James grumbling. While the engines were talking, however, two figures rolled beside the station.

"Did ya hear that?" Bert whispered, "Seems like the clanker just got relegated."

"About time," huffed 'Arry, "Perhaps Hatt is finally coming to 'is senses. That senile rustbucket will be retired soon, and then those other rainbow artifacts will follow suit."

"And then we 'ave our fun?"

"Wouldn't 'ave it any other way," 'Arry smirked. The diesels chuckled darkly and rolled back into the shadows, the other engines having not even noticed them.

* * *

Meanwhile, at Lower Suddery station, Edward pulled into the platform with his coaches. BoCo was arranging trucks in the yard.

"It's been nice having you around more," remarked BoCo, "I almost thought I'd have to run this branch line by myself." Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Donald and Douglas are usually here to help. Where are they?" BoCo rolled his eyes.

"Apparently, they're running Duck's line while he's banking the trains up the hill. I must admit, Edward, I'm not too sure of what the Fat Controller is doing."

"He told me he had a plan, but I haven't the slightest idea of what it could be." BoCo chuckled wryly.

"Maybe it's to keep you closer to Bill and Ben. Bill did accidentally fall into a pit the other day." Edward frowned.

"Did he? Oh dear, maybe it is a good thing I'm here more often." Just then, Edward's guard blew the whistle and he had to leave.

"Talk to you later, BoCo!" Edward called and he rolled away. Despite how much he wanted to think otherwise, he was sure something wasn't right.

* * *

Inside the Ironworks, 'Arry and Bert were shunting trucks of scrap towards the smelting shed.

"Just think, Bert. Soon enough, it'll be one of those _steamers_ on this flatbed." 'Arry and Bert laughed, not noticing their manager on the balcony above.

"'Arry and Bert?" The diesels looked up.

"I've just received a call from Sir Topham Hatt. He has an urgent goods train that needs to be taken to Maron immediately."

"What? We're smelting diesels," spluttered 'Arry.

"Yeah! If we go out in the sun in public, it'll spoil our image," added Bert.

"I know, but he says there are no other engines available. You'll have to take it, I'm afraid."

"Rotten hunks of metal… Can't even do their own grunt work," grumbled 'Arry, rolling reluctantly away. Bert quickly followed.

* * *

'Arry and Bert rolled into the yard, surprised to see a particularly long line of trucks waiting for them.

"What the? What is this?" 'Arry spluttered, "Who does Hatt think we are?"

"Come off it, 'Arry, we can do it no problem," replied Bert dismissively, "Show those steamers 'ow proper engines pull trucks. Give 'em one last show before the end."

"Fine, but I'm not 'appy about it," 'Arry mumbled and rolled towards the trucks. Bert rolled his eyes and followed.

* * *

Soon enough, 'Arry and Bert were rolling along the line, 'Arry in front and Bert between him and the trucks. It was hard work pulling the heavy train, but they wouldn't give up. Luckily for them, they didn't see any other engines on their way… that is, until they arrived at Wellsworth. As the diesels rolled into the station, they noticed Duck hastily shunting trucks in the yard. 'Arry scowled.

"Oh, bother. They replaced the clanker with the waddler. Hatt should've just bought another diesel like he did for the docks." He and Bert sped up in hopes that Duck wouldn't see them, but unfortunately for them, they did.

"Just what are you two doing?" he asked, clearly out of breath but trying to seem stern. Bert glared back.

"Mind your own business, waddler, and keep to your little yard." Duck rolled his eyes as he reversed from the yard and onto the main line.

"This _is_ my business, I have to bank you two up the hill." Bert scoffed.

"No you don't, you can rot in a scrapyard. Seems more fitting for you."

"Oh, let's just let 'im 'elp, Bert, make 'im think 'e's being useful," 'Arry sneered. Duck, whose face was already red from exhaustion, turned even redder as he buffered up to the diesels' train. 'Arry and Bert honked their horns and set off, practically dragging Duck along with them.

* * *

"We were better off by ourselves, now we 'ave this 'eavy waddler tugging at our couplings," Bert complained. He and 'Arry were toiling up the hill, but they weren't getting very far. Duck, who had been banking heavy trains all day, was now quite worn out and wasn't much help.

"It's not my fault!" Duck cried breathlessly, "These trucks are ruthless!"

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," 'Arry snapped back. In between the diesels and Duck, the trucks were giggling wildly.

"Duck should play with other ducks, cause he's no good at pushing trucks!" they sang, "Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! Hold back! Hold back!" The trucks tugged and pulled at 'Arry and Bert, forcing all of their weight onto Duck.

"OUCH!" he suddenly shouted. Duck came to a quick standstill, forcing 'Arry and Bert to brake as well.

"What's going on? Did the waddler finally give out?" Bert snickered. Duck groaned in pain as his driver inspected him.

"Looks like your valves have jammed, Duck," she sighed, "Not a surprise, considering how you've been straining yourself today."

"Right, that does it, this waddler's being melted down right after the clanker," 'Arry growled.

"Now we'll show 'im something, won't we?" Bert smirked and tried to move forward, but didn't even move an inch.

"Huh?"

"The train _and_ Duck are far too heavy for us to move, forward or back," Bert's driver said, "We'll have to call for help."

"Oh great, we're stuck with the Duck," 'Arry fumed, "This'll _really_ spoil our image." Duck was too exhausted to reply.

* * *

At Wellsworth, the stationmaster had just gotten the call.

"What's that? 'Arry, Bert and Duck are stuck on the hill? I'll send for-" At that moment, Edward's whistle blew and the blue engine came to a gentle stop at the platform with a goods train.

"Edward!" Edward raised an eyebrow as the stationmaster burst out of his office and ran up to him.

"What is it, sir?"

"Edward, there's an emergency on the hill. Duck broke down trying to bank 'Arry and Bert, and now they're all stuck. We have to clear the main line as quickly as possible."

"'Arry and Bert? But they're supposed to be at the Ironworks," Edward muttered so the stationmaster wouldn't hear.

"I'll do it right away, sir," he called and, once his trucks were uncoupled, set off to the rescue, more confused than ever.

* * *

Edward rolled up to the hill, where 'Arry and Bert were still berating Duck.

"Maybe we should make 'im first to be melted, make 'im an example," 'Arry smirked.

"Yeah, 'e's clearly too useless for anything else," agreed Bert. Duck looked down at his buffers, very upset. Just then, the trio heard a familiar whistle.

"What's going on here then?" Edward asked, braking behind Duck. 'Arry and Bert groaned.

"Oh, why'd they send _'im_?" Bert complained.

"Maybe if we're lucky, the old clanker will break down and we'll get _two_ prizes," 'Arry snorted. Edward took no notice.

"Are you alright, Duck?" he asked kindly. Duck sighed.

"I've been better. I don't know how you bank these trains, Edward; it gets so tiring."

"Pacing yourself is most important; otherwise… well…" Edward buffered up behind.

"Here, I'll show you." He whistled loudly.

"Are you ready?" he called. The diesels scowled and, out of protest, said nothing. Edward chuckled.

"I'll take that as a yes." With a mighty puff, he began pushing the odd cavalcade up the hill. 'Arry and Bert's eyes widened as they felt their wheels moving.

"Is that you, 'Arry?"

"No, I thought it was you. It can't be… the clanker, could it?" Duck grinned broadly.

"Go it, Edward! You show them!" Edward's cheeks were turning red from the heavy train, but he struggled on, making slow but consistent puffs as he forced the trio up the hill. At last, the top was in view.

"I don't believe it…" 'Arry muttered as the train started cascading down the other side.

* * *

Edward pushed the train all the way to Knapford Station where, to 'Arry and Bert's horror, a collection of engines were waiting, all gaping at the strange sight.

"Is that… 'Arry and Bert?" inquired Henry.

"And… Duck?" Gordon gasped.

"And _Edward!_" cheered Percy, whistling excitedly. 'Arry and Bert looked away as the train came to a stop at the platform. Duck couldn't help but laugh.

"You sure shut them up, Edward! You were brilliant back there!" Edward beamed.

"Thank you, Duck, but it was nothing, really. Just doing my job."

"Oh, I'd say it was something, alright!" Edward, Duck and the diesels looked over to see the Fat Controller stepping out of his office, grinning from ear to ear.

"A fine piece of work! I knew you could do it, Edward."

"I'm sorry I broke down, sir," Duck said apologetically. To his and Edward's surprise, the Fat Controller laughed.

"That's quite alright, Duck! I hoped that would happen." Duck and Edward stared at each other, then at the Fat Controller.

"You… _hoped_ I would break down, sir?" The Fat Controller cleared his throat.

"Well, not exactly, but for my plan to work, it had to. You see, the reason the timetables have been switched around today is so Edward here could prove himself to his… detractors." Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Detractors, sir?"

"You have no idea, Edward?" Percy cut in, now so confident he didn't even care that 'Arry and Bert were a platform over, "'Arry and Bert have been saying you should be retired and scrapped!"

"They called you a 'clanker' too," agreed Duck, "Quite horrid things to say, really." All the engines' eyes landed on 'Arry and Bert, who felt increasingly awkward. The Fat Controller stepped down the platform towards the diesels.

"Indeed, you two." He turned to 'Arry and Bert.

"I understand you have your… ways, but I do not approve of such distasteful behavior. I can only hope that Edward's actions today have shown you that he is an engine worthy of staying in service." 'Arry and Bert glanced at each other.

"Three cheers for Edward!" called Percy, "Hip, hip, hooray!"

"Hip, hip, hooray!" Duck cried, joining in with Percy.

"Hip, hip, hooray!" cheered all the engines at the station, barring 'Arry and Bert of course, who remained respectfully silent. Edward could only smile.

* * *

Later that day, 'Arry and Bert were only too happy to retreat back to the Ironworks, out of sight of the other engines.

"We'll never recover from this," 'Arry grumbled, biffing into some trucks to let out some of his anger. Bert was about to say something when the doors to the Ironworks slowly opened, revealing Edward and some trucks of scrap.

"Good evening, you two. Just bringing you some more scrap," he said. The diesels immediately fell silent, looking away as he passed. When they thought Edward was out of earshot, Bert spoke up.

"Maybe we won't, but I think we can agree that when we finally do smelt all these steam pots, we can at least keep Edward around as a stationary engine… For set dressing, you know?" 'Arry considered the thought.

"Fine. Maybe 'e at least deserves that much." From further into the Ironworks, Edward chuckled; coming from 'Arry and Bert, that was the best possible praise he could ever get.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I didn't expect to do another rewrite so soon, but this idea has been burning in my mind and I really wanted to do it. Before anyone gets mad at me, I do like the original episode, but I don't rewrite just episodes I dislike. _School of Duck_, _Confusion Without Delay_, and _Samson and the Fireworks _were all episodes I loved, but just wanted to adapt them to fit into my universe. The main thing changed, aside from the story being fleshed out due to my style, is replacing Gordon with 'Arry and Bert, for two main reasons. One, Gordon felt kind've jarring in the actual episode and two, I've been really keen to explore my version of 'Arry and Bert for a while now and it's been really fun writing them. I think the next thing I'll do will be an original story, but who knows, anything could happen. Either way, hope you enjoyed reading!


	13. The World's Strongest Engine

**THE WORLD'S STRONGEST ENGINE**

* * *

The engines on the Fat Controller's railway always try their hardest to get their deliveries to their destinations on time. Unfortunately for the engines, the Troublesome Trucks do everything they can to make the engines' journeys as hectic as possible.

"Alright, you horrid lot, I want no nonsense from you!" Henry called back sternly as he backed onto a long line of trucks.

"Of course, Henry! No nonsense from us!" a truck said sweetly. Henry smirked and began pulling the heavy train out of the siding.

"Right. Let's keep it that way." He whistled and headed off towards the main line, feeling very confident that he was keeping the trucks under control.

* * *

He wasn't.

"ON, ON, ON!" the trucks cried in delight as they pushed a screaming Henry down the hill.

"Stop, stop!" Henry wailed desperately, but the trucks weren't listening. The bend at the bottom of the hill approached closer and closer. Henry shut his eyes, bracing for the worst. Henry flew off the rails and into the patch of grass beside the line, coming to a stop as his front wheels slammed into a rock. The trucks piled behind him, giggling wildly. Henry groaned.

* * *

Henry's driver went for help, and it wasn't long before Edward arrived with the breakdown train. Henry winced as the Fat Controller stepped down from the works unit coach, looking rather annoyed.

"I'm sorry, sir," mumbled Henry, "The trucks were pushing me, I couldn't stop in time."

"I can see that," the Fat Controller replied gravely, turning to look at the cackling trucks.

"You will need a trip to the Steamworks to get you back in working condition. It shouldn't be too long, but we can't afford to have you away without a… temporary substitute." Henry's eyes widened.

"A substitute, sir?" But the Fat Controller didn't reply, instead turning on his heel, walking back to the works unit coach. Henry glanced at Edward.

"What exactly did he mean by that?" he asked, somewhat nervously.

"I'm not sure," Edward admitted, "but I'm sure it'll be fine, Henry. As he said, you won't be gone for long." Nonetheless, Henry couldn't help but be worried about what the Fat Controller had said.

* * *

It wasn't long before the other engines felt the same. By the time they all had gone back to the sheds for the night, the news of Henry's accident and the Fat Controller's response to it was well-known.

"Substitute? He's not replacing Henry, is he?" fretted Percy.

"Of course not," comforted Thomas, "He's just getting someone else to do his work while he's repaired."

"Quite right, Thomas." The engines looked down to see the Fat Controller walking up to the sheds.

"I'm sure you've all heard about Henry's… incident."

"Yes, sir. Please, sir, when will he be back, sir?" Percy asked anxiously.

"I'd say a week, two at the most. His damage wasn't too severe, and the Steamworks is working as quickly as it can." The engines were relieved, but the Fat Controller wasn't done.

"But we do need an engine on heavy goods until he returns, and all of you are busy as it is. Therefore, I have arranged with the Other Railway to loan a diesel." James gaped.

"A… a diesel, sir? You can't be serious!" The Fat Controller raised an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem, James?" James faltered.

"Well, um…"

"With all due respect, sir," put in Duck meekly, "it seems some of these 'trials' don't turn out… well."

"This diesel in particular has been to the railway before, so he should know better than to antagonize you. Nonetheless, I will be keeping a close eye on him. Trust me, if I had it my way, I wouldn't have this engine back either." Before any more objections could be made, the Fat Controller walked back to his car and drove away. The engines looked at each other.

"Been here before? He's not talking about… Diesel diesel, is he?" Percy gasped. Gordon snorted.

"That puny little box on wheels would knock himself to bits trying to pull one of Henry's trains; the Fat Controller would never be so silly."

"Who else could it be?" retorted Thomas, "The only other diesel who's been here and left is…" Thomas broke off as a dawn of realization came over the engines. James broke the silence, groaning loudly.

"Not him! That green worm was bad enough for one day, let alone a week!"

"Indeed, he acted as if we were already on the scrap heap," agreed Duck.

"Now, now, everyone, let's settle down," Edward interjected gently, "He wasn't very kind on his first trial, yes, but perhaps he has changed?" James scoffed.

"I'll believe it when I see it," he muttered darkly.

"And this, my friends, is why I personally object to pulling trucks," murmured Gordon.

"Oh, be quiet, Gordon."

* * *

Early the next morning, Donald pulled into Vicarstown station, hauling a long line of fish vans. He had bags under his eyes and looked very cross.

"How does Henry pull this dratted train every night?" he grumbled, "Anyone would think Henry liked being tired." Suddenly, he heard a quiet purring, followed by a somewhat familiar horn. Donald watched as a large, green diesel came to a gentle stop at the other platform, trying their best not to draw attention to themselves. Donald narrowed his eyes as he read the diesel's number - D261.

"So… it's ye, is it?" Donald muttered suspiciously. The diesel squirmed.

"Nothing of your concern, steamer."

"Och, it is my concern, ye muckle nuisance. This is our railway, and if ye think ye can stick yer radiator back here and taunt us again, I'll bash ye over tae bridge myself! Ye understand?" The diesel didn't seem particularly fazed by this threat.

"Sure thing, steamer."

"Ah, D261." The diesel and Donald looked over to see the Fat Controller hurrying over to them.

"Thank you for being quick, I understand this is a bit sudden." The diesel smirked smugly.

"No trouble at all, sir. Speed is my specialty." Donald glared, but the Fat Controller continued.

"Good, because I haven't forgotten your last visit here. I have only brought you back out of necessity. If I hear one slip from you, it's back to the Other Railway." The diesel blushed and looked at his buffers.

"Yes, sir," he mumbled.

"Right then. You will find your trucks at the docks. Good day." The Fat Controller began walking away, but the diesel spluttered in horror.

"T-Trucks?!" The Fat Controller turned back around with a glare.

"Yes, D261, trucks."

"But I'm an express diesel! Trucks are… horrid, grimy little things!" The Fat Controller crossed his arms.

"D261…" The diesel stammered but eventually relented. Donald held back a snicker as the defeated diesel purred silently out of the station.

* * *

"Trucks… trucks!" the diesel grumbled as he rolled along the open line, "This is despicable! My railway treats me far better than this!" All on his way to the docks, he was nothing but envious as he passed other engines, who all looked proud with their shining coaches behind. Worse still, all they did was tease him when he passed by.

"Lucky my passengers aren't travelling with you! You'd swallow up all their hats!" chuckled Duck as the diesel rolled past, gnashing his teeth. At last, he arrived at Brendam, but there wasn't any peace for him there either.

"Look, Ben! It's that silly diesel who thinks you should eat hats instead of wear them!" called Bill with a cheeky grin.

"I'd hate to see what he does with shoes!" guffawed Ben. The diesel growled, but didn't retaliate as he rounded the bend and came to a stop on the quay. Cranky smirked from above.

"Oh look, we have a celebrity here!" The diesel looked away crossly as Salty rolled alongside.

"Argh, ahoy, matey! You must be… erm…"

"My associates call me 'Class 40'," the diesel replied plainly.

"Well then, ahoy, Class 40! Welcome to our docks!" Salty grinned. Class 40 rolled his eyes.

"Listen, 'cap'n', are you gonna quit the act and arrange my train now?" To Class 40's surprise, Salty laughed.

"Sorry, matey, I'm much too busy! So many coaches to be taken to the loading dock. Ye'll have to shunt yer own!" Class 40 gaped.

"You… You can't be serious."

* * *

Class 40 angrily banged the trucks about the quay, Cranky watching in amusement.

"Trucks… Shunting… Shunting trucks!" Class 40 growled. He took out his frustration on the trucks, who were quickly finding out how rough he was at shunting.

"Ow!" a truck cried as the large diesel shoved it into the growing line.

"Be quiet!" Class 40 barked and reversed to fetch another truck. Douglas, who was backing down onto a line of coaches just arranged by Salty, raised an eyebrow at the diesel.

"Ye're nae gonna get very far shunting one truck at a time, lad. Ye'll be here all day." Class 40 shot him a glare.

"Listen, steamer, I don't think you're in any place to say what is efficient." Douglas, taken aback, rolled away in a huff as the diesel continued his rather lengthy shunting.

* * *

It took much longer than it should have, but at last, Class 40 had arranged his train. He sighed with relief as he banged into the trucks, who cried out in pain.

"Watch it, you green goblin!" a truck spat.

"We haven't even doing anything! ...yet," another added bitterly. Class 40 glared and bumped them again; the trucks wisely subsided.

"It's bad enough I'm stuck on this wretched island with museum pieces, now I have to do work that should actually be reserved for them," Class 40 grumbled mournfully. He honked his horn and started off, still muttering to himself.

* * *

All along the diesel's journey, he got nothing but dirty looks from the engines, particularly the steam engines. Some even wheeshed steam at him, which only infuriated him even more.

"You rotten kettle!" Class 40 spluttered between coughs as James whooshed past with a local train. This became routine over the next few days, and Class 40 only became crosser and crosser. On his last day before returning home, he rolled quietly into the docks to pick up yet another goods train, groaning at the scattered trucks across the yard.

"Bother! That silly pirate shunter is no better than one of those steamers." Reluctantly, he set to work shunting with his usual method. Bill and Ben watched from nearby, sharing cheeky grins.

"Look over there, Ben!" said Bill, "It's the 'efficient diesel!' Shunts only one truck at a time! Can you believe it?"

"He mustn't be very strong," agreed Ben, "Henry can move three times more than him anyday." Class 40 stopped and only just now realizing the tank engines were there, spluttered in fury.

"W-Wh- How _dare_ you insolent little-" As Class 40 struggled for words, one of the trucks got an idea and smirked.

"Is that all you can haul? Henry's loads are longer!" The other trucks quickly caught on and joined in.

"Is that all you can haul? Henry must be stronger!" Class 40's face turned bright red as the trucks roared with laughter. Even Bill and Ben were holding back giggles.

"I can haul much more weight than that silly old Henry!" the diesel scowled. A truck snickered.

"Oh yeah? Prove it!" Class 40 stammered for a moment before smirking confidently.

"I'll push you all at the same time!" he declared. Bill and Ben exchanged a look.

"He's not… serious, is he?" whispered Ben. His question was answered by the trucks' singing again.

"Push us all, that's the longest, push us all, you'll be the strongest!" Class 40 grinned in what he thought was praise from the trucks.

"Finally, you all see the light! That's me, the world's strongest engine!" Class 40 started reversing to the points to begin arranging his trucks. Bill and Ben blinked.

"At least it'll be a good show," remarked Bill.

* * *

Class 40 soon came back with five trucks, easily banging them into the buffers. The trucks gritted their teeth but held their composure.

"Five? Well, that's hardly any weight at all! Henry can pull that while sleeping!" a truck taunted. Class 40 glared.

"Huh! I'll show you, just watch." He honked his horn and went back for more trucks. A few minutes later, he returned with ten trucks. Class 40 smirked smugly.

"See? Nothing to it. I may as well permanently replace that kettle." The diesel was quite pleased, but the trucks weren't.

"Is that all you can haul? Henry's loads are longer! Is that all you can haul? Henry must be stronger!" they sang again. Class 40's smirk immediately dropped.

"He's not stronger than me, none of those steamers are!" Growling, he reversed yet again. Ben frowned at Bill.

"I shunt ten trucks all together all the time." Bill grinned.

"Don't tell him that, his engine might give out!" After a noticeably longer amount of time, the twins and trucks heard Class 40's horn and the diesel, red in the face, rolled in, pushing fifteen more trucks.

"Phew! There, you can't possibly say Henry is still stronger." The trucks smirked at each other.

"Hmm… maybe if you pull us one," one sneered. Class 40 scoffed loftily.

"I can do that with my eyes closed!" He reversed with a jerk, hoping to quickly start the heavy train, but the trucks didn't move. Class 40's wheels spun helplessly, and his face became even redder. The twins looked on in amusement.

"What's happening?" Class 40 spluttered angrily.

"You're just not strong enough!" the truck closest to him taunted.

"Yeah! Henry could move us in no time!" another added. The truth was that some of the trucks had slipped their brakes hard on, but Class 40, knowing very little about trucks, didn't realize this.

"I am strong enough!" the diesel retorted, tugging harder and harder. Bill and Ben watched expectantly.

"Here it comes…" Bill giggled. Suddenly, with a loud snap, the coupling broke and Class 40 shot backwards.

"And there it is!" Ben grinned. Class 40 raced backwards down the line, his brakes slamming on.

"HELP!" wailed Class 40 as the edge of the quay came closer and closer. Bill and Ben's laughter quickly stopped as Class 40's front bogey slipped over the quay. The twins could only stare in horror as Class 40 desperately put sand on the rails to keep his grip.

"W-What do we do?" stammered Ben.

"I don't know!" replied Bill.

"Just do _something!_" cried Class 40, "I'm going to fall!" Just then, the trio heard a long, loud whistle in the distance. To Bill and Ben's amazement, and Class 40's horror, a freshly repaired Henry the Green Engine rolled into the docks, immediately gaping upon seeing the situation. He braked alongside the twins.

"What is going on here?" He raised an eyebrow at Bill and Ben.

"Don't look at us!" huffed Bill.

"It's his own fault," added Ben, "He was showing off and made the coupling snap." Henry grunted and gently rolled up to Class 40. His driver attached a chain between the two engines, and Henry pulled with a mighty heave. Class 40 could only watch in amazement as slowly but surely, Henry reversed, pulling Class 40's bogey back onto the rails. Both Henry and Class 40 sighed in relief.

"That was a close one," remarked Henry, "But I doubt the Fat Controller's going to like this." Class 40 sighed.

* * *

It wasn't long before the engines saw the familiar sight of the Fat Controller's car driving into the docks.

"Class 40!" Class 40 winced as the Fat Controller stomped up to him, Henry and the twins watching from nearby.

"I had just gotten a complaint that you hadn't even arrived at Knapford yet, and here you are, showboating and nearly causing an accident!" Class 40 stammered.

"It's not my fault, sir! Those rotten trucks wouldn't move! What's an engine to do when their train refuses to be pulled?" The Fat Controller raised an eyebrow.

"Check the brakes, perhaps…?" Class 40's eyes went as wide as saucers. Henry, Bill and Ben almost burst out laughing.

"W-What? B-But-"

"You clearly have a lot to learn about trucks, Class 40. With Henry having returned, you are to go home immediately, and I will not be inviting you back; it is evident that you cannot learn from your mistakes."

"Yes, sir," Class 40 mumbled. The Fat Controller turned to Henry.

"Henry, do you think you can take this train away?" Henry grinned broadly.

"With pleasure, sir." Henry whistled and rolled off to couple up to the trucks. As he backed down onto the train, the shunters checked along the train and unscrewed any of the trucks' locked brakes. The guard blew the whistle and Henry, to Class 40's amazement, immediately began rolling away. The Fat Controller smiled and got back into his car, leaving Class 40 to begin his journey home. He honked his horn and quietly rolled away; he had a lot to think about. Bill and Ben, meanwhile, as soon as everyone else was out of earshot, burst out laughing.

"That was amazing! We didn't even need to do anything!" chortled Bill.

"Just goes to show you that trucks can be quite useful, sometimes," added Ben.

"Like getting rid of a smelly old diesel!"

* * *

**Author's Note: **So, it turns out writing the original story is taking longer than I thought, so here's another rewrite to tide you over. I know replacing Diesel with Class 40 is not an original idea whatsoever, I understand I am not original on this, I simply wanted to do my own take on it. This is the first time I think ever that I've truly written Class 40, I've always kind of avoided him because I didn't know what to do with him; I'm glad I eventually gave in, though, because he was pretty fun to write, as were Henry, Bill and Ben, the latter two replacing Thomas and Percy for most of it. I do have future plans for Class 40 which take place in the present day; I won't reveal much but I'm excited for it, though when it'll happen is anyone's guess. The next thing I write should truly be an original story, though. In the meantime, thank you for reading!


	14. Counting on Nia

**COUNTING ON NIA**

* * *

"Nia is going to be staying here with us!" Thomas announced proudly, "I just need to speak to the Fat Controller." The Thin Controller looked puzzled.

"But… I thought he'd be with you." It was Thomas' turn to look puzzled.

"Me? Why me?"

"Because he went looking for you!" Percy explained. Thomas gulped.

"H-He did?"

"Yes! We thought he must've found you and was bringing you home again," Gordon added. A moment of silence fell upon the station as the engines shared horrified looks.

"So… if he's not with you…" Percy began.

"Then where in the world is-" Thomas got cut off by a very familiar voice indeed.

"THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE!" Thomas froze as Samson drew alongside him and Nia, a very worse for wear Fat Controller standing in his open cab. Thomas smiled sheepishly.

"Heh heh… hello, sir?"

* * *

Thomas grumpily bumped trucks about the yard, Nia watching curiously.

"It's not fair…" he complained bitterly, "Why did the Fat Controller have to take me off my line?"

"Maybe to teach you not to run away across the world, eh?" Nia remarked cheekily. Thomas spluttered.

"You went with me!"

"Yes, but I don't have a controller back in Kenya to give me grief for it." Thomas raised an eyebrow at this, but before he could reply, Gordon's voice bellowed out.

"My coaches, little Thomas!" Thomas snorted and rolled away to fetch them. Nia watched him leave, not noticing the Fat Controller walk up to her.

"Ah, hello, Nia. How are you settling in?"

"Oh! Just fine, sir. It's so pretty here, and everyone's been so nice."

"Glad to hear it," smiled the Fat Controller, "because I've made all the proper arrangements, and now you're an official member of the railway!" Nia gasped with joy.

"Really, sir? I'm staying? Oh, thank you!"

"Of course! I've been very impressed with your work so far, and you took care of Thomas while he was on his travels. Speaking of Thomas, since he's…" The Fat Controller cleared his throat.

"...having a lesson, I'd like you to take Annie and Clarabel for him. I know you're more of a goods engine, but I'd like you to be comfortable working with passengers too. They will be waiting for you at platform two." Nia's smile faltered, but she quickly tried to hide it.

"Alright, sir. I'll be on it right away." Nia whistled and rolled away, her smile morphing into a worried frown as soon as the Fat Controller couldn't see.

* * *

Nia rolled through the yard, scanning the sidings for Annie and Clarabel. She then noticed a carriage shed with two orange coaches sleeping inside.

"Ah, that must be them!" She rolled towards them, whistling as she rolled alongside. Annie and Clarabel woke with a start.

"Thomas? Is that you?" Clarabel yawned. Nia smiled as she backed down onto them.

"No, my name is Nia! I'm taking you out today."

"You are? Well, that's exciting, isn't it, Annie?"

"Quite right, Clarabel! You know, you certainly found us quickly, Nia," Annie remarked, "New engines always struggle to find us in our corner of the yard."

"Really? That's odd, it wasn't so hard for me. Then again, I have been in my fair share of yards. All around the world, in fact!" The coaches shared a glance.

"We have a clever engine pulling us today, don't we, Clarabel?"

"Oh yes, very clever indeed!" agreed Clarabel. Nia smirked as she pulled them out of the carriage shed and towards the station.

"Right! And a clever engine never lets anything go wrong," she said, sounding as though as she was trying to convince herself more than the coaches.

* * *

Nia rolled up to the junction, narrowing her eyes at the station. She scanned the platforms, trying to use her deduction to figure out which platform she was supposed to go to.

"That one is filled, so it can't be that one…" she muttered, noticing Daisy occupying the furthest platform to the right. She glanced at the platform to the left, where Henry was just departing with a goods train.

"Oh, it could be that one! Would be very efficient to have a train enter just as another leaves." She whistled and charged across the junction into the station, just as Henry's brake van left the platform. She braked to a halt, feeling very proud of herself.

"Erm, this is the wrong platform, dear." Nia opened her eyes, only to see that no one was waiting to board on the platform.

"O-Oh!" she stammered, her face turning bright red, "My mistake." Annie and Clarabel frowned as Nia reversed back to the junction to try another platform.

"Hmm… It wasn't that one," she murmured, "so which one could it be?"

"Listen, dear, I'm afraid there's not much of a mystery here," Annie interjected.

"Yes! It's platform two you're looking for, Nia," Clarabel added helpfully.

"And which one's that?"

"Well… platform two! The second platform! You should see a 'two' right above it." Nia grimaced and rolled forward again. She pulled into a platform with passengers waiting and smiled.

"Ah, so it's this one!" Annie looked up at the number above the platform and sighed dully.

"No, this is platform five, Nia." Nia raised an eyebrow.

"It is? Then who are these passengers for then?" Suddenly, there was a whistle behind them. Nia looked back as Emily rolled up behind her with her own two coaches, looking rather confused.

"Nia? What are you doing at my platform?" Nia blushed again, whistling and hurrying away without replying. Emily blinked.

* * *

Nia reversed back to the junction, hoping that no one but Emily had noticed. She sighed, becoming rather frustrated.

"Perhaps a visual cue could help!" Clarabel suggested, catching on to this, "On platform two, there's a lady with a very big hat!" Nia immediately scanned the platforms one last time and grinned when she saw the very person on one of the platforms.

"Thank you!" she called back, finally rolling into the right platform. The passengers weren't particularly happy for her, though.

"I say, what kind of engine doesn't even know platforms? A child could figure it out!" huffed one particularly grumpy passenger as he boarded. Nia winced as some of the other passengers glared while getting into their seats.

"Oh dear…"

"Never mind, Nia! Everyone gets a bit mixed up in the stations sometimes!" Clarabel called optimistically, though this didn't cheer Nia up much. The guard blew her whistle, and Nia began rolling out of the station.

"Well, at least it can't get any worse than that…" she muttered.

* * *

Nia was soon making her way through the countryside, managing to relax as she kept a steady pace. In the distance, however, Nia could see a sign beside the line. She squinted at it as she passed by it, but could only make out odd scribbles. She continued her speed, not noticing the coaches starting to tense up behind her.

"Was that a speed limit sign?" Clarabel asked worriedly as the sign faded into the distance behind them.

"I believe so, Clarabel. Look, there's another one!" Annie cried as the train passed another sign with different scribbles, "Nia, you need to slow down!"

"I do? Why?"

"Because of the signs, Nia! Didn't you see them?" Nia grimaced and was about to reply, but she decided against it. She started applying her brakes, unsure what the fuss was about, though it didn't take long to find out. She rounded a bend and gasped in horror as just up ahead, workers were mending a bumpy section of the line. They quickly ran out of the way just as she approached. Nia began to jolt about on the bumpy rails, one of her front wheels eventually derailing and crunching into the ballast. At last, Nia screeched to a halt.

"Phew… What happened? No one told me there were people mending the line today," she grumbled defensively.

"That's what the signs were for! They were there to tell you to slow down!" Annie retorted. Nia winced and fell silent. The passengers weren't so quiet, though.

"This engine's dreadful!" the grumpy passenger grouched, "They've made me spill my tea how they went over those bumps! Such awful condition for tracks too; you'd think they'd take better care of their rails…" As the passenger very loudly droned on, the coaches winced as Nia sighed dully.

"Never mind, it got worse."

* * *

It wasn't long before Edward arrived with Rocky, and the large crane made quick work of the situation.

"There you are!" he smiled as he lowered Nia back onto the rails, "Back on track again." Nia smiled sadly.

"Thanks, Rocky." From in front of the crane, Edward raised an eyebrow at Nia.

"If you don't mind me asking, Nia, why didn't you slow down when you saw the signs? You did see them, didn't you?" Nia looked away, ashamed.

"I… did, but… No, I can't say. It's silly."

"Oh, dear, it can't be that bad!" said Annie reassuringly.

"We won't think any less of you, whatever it is, we promise!" added Clarabel. Nia glanced between the coaches, Edward and Rocky and took a deep breath.

"Alright, I… don't know numbers."

"You… don't know numbers?" Annie frowned. Nia sighed and looked down at her buffers.

"I know… I told you it was silly."

"No, no, it's not that! It's just… don't they have numbers in Kenya?"

"Of course they do," Nia replied, somewhat indignantly, "The same-looking ones too, but I only really took long-distance trains there, so numbers weren't quite so important. But here, there are all these platforms and signs… I won't be a really useful engine on this railway until I know numbers."

"Oh! You don't know what a one or a two look like!" Clarabel gasped, "So that's why you didn't know the platforms or slow down for the signs! Well, that explains everything!"

"Indeed! You should've told us sooner, dear," added Annie, "It's okay to ask for help, you know. We've had to help Thomas more times than we can count!"

"How about we teach you? Those 'squiggles' aren't so hard to learn once you get used to them," Clarabel suggested. Nia stared, utterly astonished at what she just heard.

"Really? You'll teach me?"

"Of course! In fact, we can start right now! You see that symbol on Edward's tender over there, Nia? That's the number two!" Nia glanced at Edward's tender and studied it carefully.

"The number… two."

"Don't worry, Nia, we'll practice it more than once! No one ever learns the first time, you know," Clarabel called. Nia smiled and began rolling away.

"Thank you, you two!" she laughed as she and the coaches rolled into the distance. Rocky turned to Edward.

"Huh. Have you ever seen anything like it, Edward?"

"No, I don't believe I have," the blue engine murmured.

* * *

Throughout the rest of the day as Nia, Annie and Clarabel went about their work, the coaches utilized every moment they could to teach Nia.

"That number on Percy's side is six, Nia," Annie explained as Nia pulled into Ffarquhar, where Percy was having a drink at the water tower. Percy smirked proudly.

"And proud of it!"

"Toby is the number seven; notice the straight lines at an angle," Clarabel said with as much of an air of authority as she could muster as Toby rolled into Maithwaite. Toby raised an eyebrow as Nia studied the number on his side.

"What are they doing?"

"Oh, it's nothing to worry yourself about, Toby," Henrietta replied from behind him, "Annie and Clarabel just enjoy being teachers, that's all." Bertie squirmed as Nia studied the bus' front license plate.

"Can I go now?"

"Not yet, Bertie!" Annie called, "You have two numbers on you! That takes some time to memorize!" Bertie sighed.

* * *

By the time the sun was starting to set, Nia was starting to get good at identifying numbers.

"Oh! That one has a straight line on top and curved line on bottom… That's five!" Nia cried excitedly as James rushed past.

"And there's nine and ten!" she continued as Donald and Douglas could be seen rolling through the station with a long goods train. Annie and Clarabel cheered from behind her.

"Brilliant, simply brilliant, Nia! You're really getting better!" Clarabel said proudly. Nia smirked.

"Well, what can I say? I have good teachers!" The trio laughed as they pulled into the junction but were cut off by a familiar whistle. Thomas rolled slowly into the station, hissing loudly, followed by a long line of trucks, most of which were filled to the brim with rubbish. Finally, at the end of the train was Whiff.

"Come along, Thomas, just a few more stops and we'll be back at the dump in no time!" Whiff called. Thomas scoffed as he drew to a halt at the platform. He glared enviously at Nia and the coaches.

"At least someone's having a good time," he grumbled bitterly. Nia grinned cheekily.

"Oh, don't be so down, Thomas! You are the number one, after all!" Nia and the coaches laughed again. Thomas snorted, disappearing into a cloud of steam.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Not gonna lie, this one was tough, mainly because I wanted to translate the original episode in a way that made sense. I think I pulled it off though; Nia's essentially her initial portrayal in _Big World! Big Adventures!_ in my canon, with her sarcastic nature sticking around as opposed to being dropped once Season 22 hit the scene. What's also changed is the placement of the story; instead of being the last episode, this is now the first, effectively replacing _Forever and Ever_, which isn't much of a loss for me anyway. Getting to actually write Nia was funner than I expected it to be, and having Annie, Clarabel, and Thomas play sufficient roles was great too. Next up should be either be a Railway Series adaptation or original, we'll see.


	15. Danger-Prone Darcy

**DANGER-PRONE DARCY**

* * *

One chilly autumn morning, Percy was puffing along the line with a special load in tow.

"A-Are we almost there yet, Percy?" Alfie the Excavator called through chattering teeth on a well wagon behind Percy, "I-I'm freezing back here!"

"Almost!" Percy called back, rounding a bend before braking alongside a large site where the rest of the Pack were working.

"Here we are, Alfie!" Alfie sighed with relief.

"Thanks, Percy." The little excavator rolled off the well wagon and towards the site, leaving Percy to whistle and roll away. However, Alfie had barely moved one wheel turn onto the dirt when he heard a stern voice.

"Oh no you don't! Not _one_ careless move on my nice, flat ground! Do you know how long it took to make this so perfect?" Alfie looked up to see Brenda the Bulldozer trundle up to him with an expectant glare. Alfie smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, Brenda. But what's going on?"

"We're building a new road!" Jack explained, reversing alongside him, "All we have to do now is get through that rock over there." The three looked to the rockface that blocked the current planned road. Alfie's eyes widened.

"All that? Do we have any dynamite?"

"We won't need dynamite, or so Miss Jenny says," remarked Oliver from nearby, "There's a new machine that's coming that'll make quick work of that rock." Alfie raised an eyebrow.

"What sort of machine can do that?"

"Who knows? Maybe they can explode whenever they want!" Jack mused.

"Or perhaps they're so strong they can simply push the whole cliff out of the way, making the whole site flat in an instant!" Brenda sighed wistfully. Alfie gulped; he didn't like the sound of such a powerful machine.

* * *

Meanwhile, on another part of the island, Nia was rolling into Brendam Docks, looking up at Cranky.

"Good afternoon, Cranky! How is my special coming along?" she asked. Cranky grunted.

"There's nothing 'special' about this. It's just a machine," he muttered, lifting a yellow vehicle with a prominent drill from a ship's hull. The vehicle pouted at Cranky.

"I'm not _just _a machine, you know. I'm a _tunnel-boring _machine!" Cranky rolled his eyes as he began lowering her down.

"Of course you are." Nia was much more impressed as the large machine was placed on her well wagon.

"You're certainly the first tunnel-boring machine _I've_ ever seen. Welcome to Sodor!"

"Why, thank you! Nice to know one of you is friendly," the machine replied, earning a snort from Cranky. Nia smirked.

"Don't worry about it; most of us aren't as cranky as Cranky. Oh! I'm Nia, by the way."

"And I'm Darcy! I was told I'll be working for the Sodor Construction Company?"

"Yes! I'll be taking you to them now!" Nia whistled and rolled away with Darcy, leaving Cranky to watch them leave in disinterest.

* * *

As the Pack were working to prepare the site for their new recruit, Alfie found himself becoming increasingly uneasy.

"T-They won't really be able to… _explode_, will they, Oliver?" he whispered hoarsely. Oliver chuckled.

"Of course not, Alfie. Jack just has a big imagination. Now come on, let's keep digging what we can. That'll keep your mind off things." However, as Oliver continued to clear earth away from the rockface, Alfie could only stare at the rock ahead of him. Suddenly, there was a loud whistle. Alfie jumped and turned frantically, only to see Nia rolling up to the site.

"See, Darcy? From what Thomas has told me, those machines over there are all very friendly. Except Max and Monty - he was very explicit about that." The machine on the well wagon behind her smiled.

"Oh, really? Well, that's a relief. Hello everyone!" Darcy called, waving her drill at the Pack. Two dump trucks only gave her a dismissive look, but a front loader, a turquoise bulldozer and a brown excavator rolled up to her in awe.

"Wow!" Jack gasped in amazement, "_You're_ the new recruit? Incredible!"

"Not quite what I expected, but still looks useful," added Brenda. Darcy grinned, but couldn't help noticing Alfie behind them, staring at her drill in pure terror. Her grin wavered and she was about to say something when Miss Jenny pulled up in her land rover. She walked up to the group, delighted.

"Ah, I see you've all met our new member of the team! Everyone, this is Darcy!" She turned to Darcy.

"Now, Darcy, why don't you explain what you can do?"

"I'm a tunnel digger! I dig tunnels! Rather self-explanatory, really." Alfie blinked, snapping out of his terror, and rolled up to Miss Jenny.

"M-Miss Jenny, we don't _really _need another digger. We already have me, Jack, Oliver. Ne-"

"While we may have quite a few diggers already, Alfie," Miss Jenny cut in, "I think you'll find that Darcy is a very _special_ kind of digger." Alfie gulped as Darcy made eye contact with him. Miss Jenny didn't notice as she turned to the rest of the Pack.

"Now, I want you all to continue clearing the site as best you can. Back to work!"

"Yes, Miss Jenny," chorused the machines, and they went back to work, with Alfie hurrying away from Darcy as quickly as he could. Miss Jenny turned to Nia and Darcy.

"You've arrived a bit early, so unfortunately we're not quite ready for you just yet, Darcy. While you wait, why don't you watch how our team works?" Miss Jenny suggested, walking back towards the rockface to check in on her team. Darcy chuckled weakly before looking down at the ground.

* * *

Darcy was soon unloaded from her well wagon, and she watched from the side as the rest of the Pack were working. She felt rather left out, but that wasn't her main concern. Every so often, she noticed Alfie turn to look at her before quickly turning away and, if possible, hiding behind something.

"You alright over there?" Darcy finally called, "I can help you if you want."

"N-No th-thanks!" Alfie stammered, "W-We've got it all under control!" Darcy raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure? I can give you a demonstration if you'd like!" A pair of goggles slid down over Darcy's eyes.

"See? I just protect my eyes from dust and rubble, and then…" Darcy began to move her spinning drill, right into Max's path.

"Whoa!" the dump truck cried, swerving to avoid the obstacle. Darcy gasped, moving her drill back into its original position. Max screeched to a halt, nearly tipping over. He glared back furiously.

"Watch out, Darcy! You need to keep out of the way!"

"Yeah! Know your place, you _boring _machine!" sneered Monty as he passed with some earth.

"_Boring! _I get it! Good one, Monty!" Max laughed as he followed. Darcy watched in dismay as the dump trucks cackled away. Alfie, however, was absolutely terrified.

"D-Did you s-see that, O-Oliver? S-She could've torn M-Max's dumper off! We c-can't have her as part of the team. S-She's dangerous!"

"Oh, she didn't mean to, Alfie. She's still young; besides, she'll learn to be just as careful as the rest of us in due time," Oliver replied. Alfie gaped; he could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"S-She has a _spinning drill_, Oliver! That can never be safe!"

"She's safe enough for Miss Jenny to not mind, and that's good enough for me," remarked Brenda as she trundled by, "Anyway, we need her to dig the tunnel through the rock. It's not as if any of us are strong enough to do it." To Brenda and Oliver's surprise, Alfie began knocking his shovel against the rockface.

"Y-Yes we are! If we all work together, we w-won't need that dangerous machine around!" Brenda and Oliver shared a worried glance.

From her spot, Darcy could soon hear the sound of Alfie frantically trying to chisel the rockface with his shovel. Darcy winced.

"Oh dear… He really doesn't want me here, does he?"

"Who doesn't want you?" Darcy looked to see Nia braking to a halt nearby with a goods train. Darcy sighed.

"That little excavator over there. I think you both have never seen a tunnel digger before, but he seems to think I'm dangerous. I'm… not, am I?"

"Of course you're not! That excavator seems very silly; I'm surprised Thomas didn't mention that about him. Maybe because they have that in common…" Nia chuckled at her own wit, but Darcy was still downcast, so Nia hastily went on.

"Anyway, you're going to dig that tunnel soon, aren't you? You can show him that you're useful then! I'll be here to watch too, if that helps." Darcy smiled.

"It does; thanks, Nia."

"Alfie, what on earth are you doing?" Darcy and Nia looked to see Miss Jenny walking up to Alfie, who was still scraping his shovel against the rockface.

"D-Digging the tunnel, Miss Jenny, just like you wanted! You don't need that… dangerous machine, ma'am. You can just use us!" Miss Jenny heaved a long sigh.

"Alfie, you've not made a single dent in that rock, and we have a deadline to keep to. Darcy can handle it _and_ be safe too. Now, move out of the way so Darcy can get into position, please." Alfie grimaced, about to protest when Miss Jenny crossed her arms. The excavator sighed and reversed from the rockface. MIss Jenny turned to Darcy.

"Darcy, we're ready for you!" she called. Nia smirked at Darcy.

"Well, what do you know? Show that excavator just what you can do!" Darcy grinned.

* * *

The Pack stood by as Darcy advanced towards the rockface, with her goggles over her eyes and her drill steady. Alfie watched anxiously as Darcy's drill began to spin. Darcy smirked.

"Aim and… DRILL!" she shouted as her drill began easily cutting away at the rock. Alfie and Jack gaped as Darcy had soon disappeared into the tunnel that she had created.

"Did… Did she just do that?" Max spluttered.

"Of course she did!" chuckled Nia from the rails nearby, "Sbe is a very _special _digger, after all." The dump trucks shared a glance. On the other side of the rockface, Darcy emerged from the tunnel, rocks flying everywhere.

"Now _that _felt good." She quickly reversed back through her tunnel and to the site again, where she was greeted with Nia, Jack and Brenda enthusiastically cheering.

"You were absolutely _amazing_, Darcy! I've never seen anyone so strong!" Jack gushed.

"Oh, it was nothing, really. It's just what I do!"

"Maybe, but you were great, Darcy. A perfect demonstration if I ever saw one," smiled Miss Jenny, "Now then. Since our recruit has opened up a path for us, let us go and keep working on that road!"

"I want to be the first one through!" Jack grinned and took off towards the tunnel. Brenda and Oliver followed eagerly, leaving Alfie noticeably quiet. Darcy looked hesitant for a moment but quietly approached him.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, Alfie, I really didn't mean to. My drill is a bit intimidating, I suppose." Alfie's nervousness seemed to fade at this and was quickly replaced with guilt.

"No… _I'm _sorry, Darcy. I shouldn't have made you feel unwanted. You're a really useful tunnel digger."

"And _you're _a really useful excavator! Just leave the rock to me from now on, okay?" Darcy winked and Alfie laughed as the two rolled away together towards the tunnel. Nia watched the scene, rather impressed.

"All's well that ends well," she mused, "Perhaps I was wrong to judge that little excavator so soon." She whistled and continued on with her delivery. However, there were two that were still unhappy - Max and Monty, who glared at Darcy with suspicion as she rolled into the tunnel after Alfie. That, however, is another story…

* * *

**Author's Note: **Last adaptation was probably the last Season 22 one I do (for at least a long time), now this one is likely the last Season 23 one. With a new title suggested by fellow writer and good friend **Chase the ****Ferroequinologist** (please check him out, he does incredible work and is releasing a new set of stories as this is published) and a new second lead character, this story's quite different from the original _First Day on Sodor!_. The decision to center it around Alfie as well as Darcy comes from not only Alfie having a bit of a nervous streak in the Pack episodes, but also because he's been sorely neglected since his return, and I think the poor little guy deserves better. This story confirms Darcy and Brenda as being a part of my AU, although I'm not necessarily sure about the former's standing position in it in the long term, but that's a problem for another day. Brenda, however, is a character I was really pessimistic about on announcement but have grown to love since, mainly due to _Out of Site_. This doesn't mean that Byron is gone from my AU, though; we'll see what the future holds in store for him. This story's also made me glad I've incorporated Nia into my AU, because writing her's surprisingly a ton of fun. That sense of wit and teasing nature really brings out a lot of fun interactions, and I hope to continue that with her in the future. Don't worry, she'll pop up in an original story in due time. I think I've rambled long enough; both another adaptation and a couple originals are in the works, so look out for those soon!


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